A Winner is Two:Robotnik, continued
by Clement Rage
Summary: A continuation of Blood Lord Dark Kiva's entry to Avatarjk137's tournament
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, folks. I'm a latecomer to Avatarjk137's tournament A Winner is Two, so when Blood Lord Dark Kiva dropped out, I stole his character, Robotnik of Sonic fame. As our story begins, Robotnik has just been badly beaten up by a bunch of demons, a demon summoner, and some bees. For details, visit Reaper's Shadow and Blood Lord Dark Kiva's respective chapters. Enjoy, folks, and may the best author win! Bane the Druid is from the Legacy of Kain game series, which I'd recommend to everyone who enjoys a good story combined with bloody combat._

**Robotnik (continuation.)**

Bees eluded for the present, Robotnik found himself nursing some considerable stings as he made his way back to the clearing (well, _now_, it was a clearing) in which his first duel had taken place. Looking around at the devastation, he considered his options. That had not been an auspicious beginning to his tournament. Those demons had knocked most of his little creations aside instantly. He'd never expected to go up against anything so powerful. And now, here he was, forced to run from a mere beehive. Returning to the place said hive had fallen, now vacant, he pillaged it for whatever honey was left. The sugar restored some of the energy he'd lost running, and returned him to his senses.

Dr. Ivo Robotnik had always been a thinker, rather than a fighter. He had never even attempted to go up against Sonic fighting hand to hand, preferring to rely on his mechanical creations and various minions. They had been wiped out in his first little encounter. That didn't bode well for his future. He knew he'd never defeat some of those creatures hand to hand. So all he could do was salvage what he could from the devastated gap in the forest and hope he could find something useful.

After some time of sifting through fragments of toppled trees and mines, he hadn't found much. His laser pistols were shredded, and only a few of his mines had survived. He would need to use them sparingly from this point onwards. His toolkit-welding irons, screwdrivers, etcetera, had survived, but without much materials to use them on, there was little he could do. One of the larger mine fragments was just big enough to allow him to wedge it between two trees to use as a rudimentary shelter from the elements should any storm arrive on the island, while another of his mines which had not exploded on inspection turned out to be faulty, and swift dismantling provided him with a little convex shield, to which a moment's welding of another debris fragment added a curved handle on the inside. Plenty of mine fragments were jagged, and he found several for which a few minutes work would turn a broken piece of shrapnel into a crude but hopefully serviceable knife or sword by the use of a few stones to remove any jagged edges on the section which would serve as the handle. Returning periodically to the now abandoned hive to renew his strength, he continued his salvaging, turning up a few noteworthy items or potential tools he could make given time, but little he could create quickly. As he was testing his knives on the multiple downed trees, a metallic squawk caught his attention, and he looked up.

"Klunk!"

The robotic bird alighted on his shoulder, leaving Robotnik overjoyed to see his pet.

"You followed me!" Klunk, an early experiment, had been with Robotnik from the very beginning, and had apparently followed the helicopter bringing him here. He would be very useful for gathering information on his opponents, but also would need regular servicing.

Robotnik looked around at his pitiful collection of weapons. He'd never been an especially good hand to hand fighter, and he'd been too wasteful with his resources during that first combat. The Domino Effect, while useful, had used a lot of his mines, and he would have little remaining for the next battle, when it came. If Raidou was any indication, some of the other competitors were very experienced fighters in their own right, without any of his tricks. He wouldn't have much hope in a knife fight.

When he'd come to this island, he'd thought it a game, a way to gain power, especially now that King K Rool was beginning to muscle in on his empire back home. He'd never thought that by coming here he might _die._ Even Sonic, at his worst, stamping on the Plexiglass bubble of all his various creations, had never actually tried to cut him in half, unlike Raidou. The demon summoner had just harshly disabused him of the notion that this tournament would be anything but easy to survive.

So...the question remained. What was he to do...he needed to gain more tools and equipment so he could build something to aid his defence...the only way he could do that was by challenging other contestants and looting them...but who could he survive a battle with? He could attempt to avoid conflict, but if he remembered the rules correctly, he'd eventually be hunted down. And, unfortunately, a large egg shaped man in gauntlets and armour with a lurid orange moustache could not hide easily. He would be challenged...and he'd have to be ready to fight outside his comfort zone, in a hand to hand combat he was unfamiliar with, until he could find other materials.

He practiced with his new knives long into the night, and began to recover his composure.

_I am Dr. Ivo Robotnik! I will survive!_

He drifted off to sleep under his corrugated iron sheet, listening to the soothing sound of explosions and falling trees across the island as other competitors showcased their talents elsewhere.

* * *

Bane the Druid, Chief Adviser to the BORED board of directors regarding vegetation, burst into tears as yet another tree fell. He'd spent quite a while caring for the Island's trees, and already a sizeable fraction of them had been obliterated. Taking out a notepad from his headdress, he wrote a memo to his superiors, recommending that any future tournament venues should include Ents, or failing that, genetically modified homicidal squirrels, to protect the landscape.


	2. Round 1:Robotnik v Mystique

_Here's round one, folks, hopefully the first of many. Thanks to my reviewers, Avatar jk137, Kohaku Kawa, and Reaper's Shadow for their support. Acknowledgements also go to RS and Blood Lord Dark Kiva for setting up Robotnik before I started. Both of them have now left the tournament. I must be unlucky. Special thanks to Avatar for reviewing, since he apparently has to keep track of EVERY fic in the tournament, which must be hard work. (Aw, look at me, sucking up to the host). Finally, a mention to Kohaku Kawa for accepting my challenge, as well as reviewing._

_Read Mystique's intro, it's very good._

_Oh, by the way, I don't own Sega or Marvel. Just in case you were wondering._

_I've taken some liberties with the description of the outpost, hope nobody minds. Apologies for the long authors note. _

**Round 1(or 2, from Robotnik's perspective): Robotnik(Sonic the Hedgehog) v Mystique(X-men:Evolution), owned by Kohaku Kawa**

Klunk was not idle while Robotnik was sleeping. When the explosions stopped, and it appeared most of the contestants had found whatever refuge they could for the night, the robotic parrot left his master to scout for potential adversaries, possible escape routes, and/or ambush sites, trusting the treacherous , shrapnel covered ground around Robotnik's own refuge to keep him safe. When Robotnik awoke the following day, a large, minutely detailed map was scratched into the soil nearby, as well as sketches of those few other contestants Klunk had been able to find. Some had eluded him, but Robotnik now had a much better idea as to what he was up against. Sadly, at the briefing beginning the tournament, he had paid little attention, believing at the time that such a contest would not be a challenge to him. Having now learned to take it more seriously, he studied the map carefully. He'd known he was on an island, of course, but now he knew exactly its dimensions. The Island was mostly forested, with a volcano in the centre. That, he knew. The volcano was heavily fortified, and although Klunk had little to fear from toxic gases, he'd almost been shot out of the air several times when the security staff found him. He had hence not been able to give much detail about the volcano beyond the fact that there was something there, something important, that the tournament organisers emphatically wished to hide. The unforested areas were mostly on the volcano slopes, giving the defenders a clear field of fire against anyone attempting to ascend, even if they endured the gases. For the present, the central fortress was best left alone.

The sketches of the other contestants proved dispiriting. With the barrier preventing high altitude reconnaissance flying, Klunk had only been able to find a handful of them. Even so, Robotnik was not optimistic. A nine foot, armoured turtle, with serrated claws and three inch (Klunk had brought him back one) pointed teeth, had _lost_ its battle. To think that one of the other contestants were capable of vanquishing _that_ left Robotnik thinking very carefully about his odds of survival. And the others...well, there was at least one other monster wandering around, and even the humans who seemed normal appeared very comfortable with the weapons they were using. Whereas Robotnik had seldom ever fought by hand. If he met them, he'd need an edge, some way to tip the balance in his favour, which meant machines. Which meant metal, and unless there was an iron ore mine he was unaware of on this island, there wasn't many places he could get it.

Aside from the central complex, buildings were rare on the island, but there were some anomalies. As best as he could tell from the map, there were occasional manmade, _built _structures on the island. Many were centred on the central volcano, and Robotnik decided to leave those alone, as his approach would leave him too exposed. There were also places of interest apparently along the coastline, but the map was unclear about whether these were fortified building or merely caves. But, as Robotnik could never be a good swimmer decked out in his full armour, they were also best left alone, at least for the present. The installation on the island to the south was rejected for the same reason, leaving him with a few options. After committing the map to memory, he considered the remaining possibilities.

Picking the nearest structure to his current position, he assembled his weapons, gathered some of the more useful shrapnel, and began heading north. If he was going to find better materials for building, he would find them there. Reluctantly, he decided to leave Klunk behind. If his excursion went against him, he'd still need a scout. Klunk was too valuable to waste.

* * *

Mystique's eyes snapped open as one of her tripwires sang, courtesy of the alert system provided by the BORED. She'd had little to do since the tournament began. A few contestants had passed close to her outpost, but none had thus far shown more than passing interest in the structure, and no orders had arrived from Valdez, Ofdensen, or anyone else. So she'd mostly just been watching her monitors and waiting (for obvious reasons, there were no windows in the living quarters section of her outpost), and examining her surroundings through CCTV. On the whole, she was impressed by the setup-BORED had clearly put some thought into this. And now, someone was coming. Maybe she'd get the chance to earn her fee.

* * *

When he'd tripped the wire, Robotnik had expected something nasty to happen to him, but when nothing immediate happened, he decided to keep going and hope for the best, resolving to take more care in future. Trailcraft had never been one of his talents, but he couldn't let himself be ensnared. He needed those materials. He'd had to hide from other contestants several times on his way to this structure. The section of broken string, however, proved useful, as, dampened, a severed section of it provided him with a fuse, which allowed him to complete a project he'd been working on en route. Some of the explosive powder from the malfunctioning mine, poured into a repaired shell casing, surrounded by some of the smaller, sharper pieces of shrapnel. With a gap left for the fuse fate had now provided him with, he now had a crude but hopefully effective version of a fragmentation grenade, and given time, he could make more. That was a hopeful beginning to his expedition.

When he finally came within sight of the outpost, his morale was dented significantly. There was only one obvious way in, securely sealed, and the structure itself was armoured and durable. A cylindrical metal vault, with a diameter of about twenty feet, placed upright on the landscape, with a domed roof. A spiral staircase of steel rungs extended to the left of the entrance, extending around the outside of the building approximately fifteen feet upwards to a watchtower built on the peak of the dome, with good sightlines in all directions, perfect for sniping. He watched it for twenty minutes, but there was no movement, so he advanced to examine the entrance. A best he could tell, it was securely sealed. There were no dents or blemishes in the semi-buried structure and no flaws that he could find (And if there was one thing Doctor Ivo Robotnik knew, it was engineering). The building was new enough to still be shiny, and he knew that even with a full arsenal it would take time and effort to penetrate the vault's walls or ceiling. Which left only the door, if such it could be called. It had been forged of some alloy he couldn't name, but it appeared at least as durable as titanium. The only lock appeared to be a small slot at hip height near where the door ended and the walls began, for inserting some form of keycard or tag.

The outpost was nothing if not secure. Which implied that there was something inside the tournament organisers wanted to protect. There would probably be a guard or guards inside. And while he couldn't penetrate the structure, he could certainly get their attention.

* * *

Mystique watched the monitors as the bizarre, orange moustached, armoured man examined the exterior of the outpost with the eyes of an engineer. He knew what he was looking at, and appeared impressed, but he clearly wanted to get in at her, and equally clearly wasn't about to give up. She wondered if she should do something. She had received no specific orders at this point, regarding a particular person to seek out, and was not supposed to act of her own volition. But, if she remembered correctly, Enforcers could respond if 'challenged' by a contestant, and were in fact, 'strongly urged', in the words of Ofdensen, to accept. Did examining her outpost with a clear intent to breach it constitute a challenge? Mystique was uncertain. She didn't want to give Valdez any excuse to withhold her fee by claiming she was not fulfilling her duties. Then an explosion sent vibrations though the outpost as the odd armoured man planted a mine.

_Good enough, M_ystique decided, and scooping up the nearest weapons, headed for the door.

* * *

The precious mine caused only the slightest dent to the outpost structure. Robotnik had not really expected anything else. BORED were thorough, he'd give them that. However, it certainly attracted the attention of the person or people that dwelt within, as no sooner had the dust settled than the door opened and a blue skinned woman dove out, wearing shorts and leather armour, as well as a gunbelt. She had an assault rifle slung on her back and a handgun in her right hand, as well as grenades at her belt, and Robotnik knew instantly his meagre arsenal was outmatched. She rolled upright from the dive instantly, with a lithe and fluid movement, and almost had him then, as her first shot sliced across his cheek. With no cover readily available, having set down his newly made shield to plant the mine, Robotnik had no option but to charge, knocking her gun hand wide as she fired again, but failing to knock her off her feet. She sidestepped with horrifying speed, one blue leg flashing out to sweep him off his feet. She tried to bring the gun to bear on him them, but the rounds sparked off Robotnik's gauntlet as he thrust it up in front of his face in time, and he gained his feet, successfully tripping her en route. She somersaulted backwards instantly, landing on her feet, but he was already charging, gauntleted hands grabbing her extended arm and flinging her against the metal side of the outpost. Recovering, she spun aside from another charge designed to crush her against the surface, and rammed her elbow into the back of his head. Robotnik grunted but didn't slow, lashing out with one arm and knocking her into the beginning of the staircase winding around the outside of the building. She'd lost her gun upon impact with the wall, and he scooped it up, but her foot drove his arm up just before he fired, and the bullet sparked off the stairs above her head.

Retreating up around the staircase while trying to simultaneously unsling her rifle, defend herself, and avoid being shot proved difficult, and Mystique, to her great surprise, found herself hard pressed as Robotnik drove her back up around the outpost, up and up to the watchtower. A jab to the jaw knocked him back a step, allowing the shape shifter to finally unsling her rifle, but before she could bring it to bear Robotnik seized the barrel and forced it aside from himself, dropping his own weapon in the process. The rifle was difficult to use properly at close range, but as Robotnik seized the barrel Mystique was able to shove the handle into his unarmoured face, shattering his bulbous nose and knocking him back another step. His gauntlets flew to his face, allowing Mystique to get in under him and try to trip him down the stairs. She almost succeeded, but in full armour he proved just too heavy to lift, even on a staircase. Both his fists hammered into her from above, knocking her flat, while a subsequent kick sent her flying upwards. Rolling up with the kick, she found herself at the top of the watchtower, and spun up into a crouch as Robotnik followed. Her rifle blast hit his left shoulder plate, rebounding from his armour, but numbing his arm, and while the second shot bounced off metal also, the force of the impact at this range knocked him off balance, and a shoulder charge knocked him back over the railing of the watchtower. He teetered for an instant, clawing at anything that could provide purchase, and found Mystique's gunbelt, jerking her forward suddenly. A numbing strike to above the gauntlet, the only unarmoured point on his body apart from his head, forced him to let go, but as he swiped at her one of the pockets on the belt was ripped open, and as Robotnik plummeted off the side of the tower, Mystique's keycard sailed after him. When she realised this Mystique dove off the side of the tower after him, aware that she couldn't risk being locked out of her base.

Robotnik landed heavily and ungracefully in front of the outpost's door, just retaining the presence of mind to step aside as Mystique landed heavily on his shoulder, instead of his neck, as she'd been aiming. She landed far more lightly, but slid off his shoulder on the side facing away from the outpost and he was able to snatch up the keycard beside him and swipe it through the door, charging through it when it opened. Mystique could have put a bullet in the back of his head before the door closed, but that would leave her still locked out, so she dove through the door behind him instead, slipping through just before it closed.

Inside, the dynamics of the battle changed. Knowing a bullet fired in here would ricochet insanely off the inside walls, with no guarantee that it wouldn't come right back at her, Mystique shelved her rifle. Her agility would count for less in the confined space, but it was better than the other option. Her spring in the door impacted with Robotnik's back, catapulting him forward into the food bins and scattering them in every direction, as well as forcing him to drop the keycard near the door. But there was no space for Mystique to spring away from his counterattack, as he spun and flung her violently against the computer screens. Happily, BORED, well aware of the kind of contestants the tournament would attract, had designed them to resist exactly that kind of thing, and they weren't so much as dented. Rolling upright again, Mystique picked up the plastic swivel chair nearby and swung it against Robotnik's chest, sending him again into the wall. One of her spare rifles spilled free of its box as his shoulder clipped it, and Robotnik snatched it up and levelled it at Mystique, who flung the nearest thing to hand (which happened to be a can of frozen peas) at the doctor just before he fired. Raising his hands to protect his face from the missile, Robotnik's bullet struck the ceiling and then the light, which shattered, before ricocheting again and impacting in Mystique's left shin. Cursing her bad luck as they were plunged into darkness, the mutant lunged for the door, punching the button that opened the door from the inside. She snatched up the keycard from where it lay as the door opened, before rolling out, leaving Robotnik alone in the outpost. He unfortunately did not notice this in the dark as he opened fire on the spot he'd last seen Mystique.

The bullets ricocheted wildly off walls, floor, and ceiling of the little metal capsule, their trajectories impossible to predict. The internal plasterboard wall between the bathroom and the rest of the outpost was riddled as bullets bounced off the fixtures and rebounded before passing again through the wall and rebounding again and again until they ran out of momentum. Food bins were shattered, Mystique's bedroll was punctured, and two fuel canisters for the ATV ruptured. Had Robotnik himself not been heavily armoured, his tournament would have ended right then. Even as he was, he took two bullets in the back and one in the shoulder, slowed enough by the armour they had punched through that the wounds were merely painful rather than dangerous, before he had the sense to stop firing. The ricochets continued for a while, but Robotnik was still alive by the finish, although his armour had taken more impacts than he was comfortable with. He was just gathering himself when the base door opened and a grenade arced in, almost lazily, courtesy of the angry blue skinned lady outside. He dived for it, scrabbling frantically for a moment in the darkness before swiping it towards the door again with all his strength. It exploded on the threshold, the door still open, flinging Robotnik and Mystique in opposite directions. Being more heavily armoured, Robotnik absorbed the impact better, but then the fuel canisters ignited, and his world dissolved in flame. Shrieking with pain, he punched the button opening the door(which had just closed again) and fled blindly into the trees, assault rifle in hand. Mystique, still groggy from the explosion, let him go. There was nowhere he could go that she couldn't follow. When the flames died down, quite quickly as there was little to burn inside beyond the fuel itself, she re-entered her outpost and retrieved a first aid kit, thankfully sealed in an airtight container like most of the equipment. After pulling the bullet from her leg and bandaging herself, she decided to go back to work.

* * *

Robotnik, meanwhile, was still fleeing blindly from the enforcer he had so unwisely provoked. The flames clinging to him were quickly extinguished, after some undignified but necessary rolling around, but he lost valuable time, and forests were not his favourite place. Cursing as he tripped over roots and was scratched by low hanging branches, he was fully expecting death to pounce on him from the trees at any second. His thoughts still behind him with the pursuit he knew would come, he didn't even notice that he was running through marshland now instead of forest until he was knee deep in a lake, and any further travel in the direction he had been going was impossible. Returning to the shore, hoping his armour would not begin to rust with his immersion, he lay against a tree. By this stage, the dull ache in his back and shoulder had intensified to the point where he could not continue. He didn't have tweezers, but he did have a knife, which, agonising though it was, removed the bullets from his back and shoulder, admittedly messily, but serving its purpose. He couldn't stitch the awkward angles even if he had thread, but explosive powder, ignited from a branch itself ignited by his blowtorch, cauterised the wounds, serving the same purpose. He lay there quietly, slowly recovering from the clumsy surgery, unable to move, until he heard the engine behind him, which served as stimulus enough to force him to stagger to his feet and attempt to hide. So...she was following. In a vehicle of some kind. He doubted the normal contestants had been allowed to bring mechanical transport to the island. He certainly hadn't. But Dr. Ivo Robotnik knew machines. He understood machines.

_That's your first mistake, girl._

The thought gave him enough energy to stagger upright and wait for her. He had to finish this now, while he still had some energy.

* * *

Having retrieved the fallen weapons, and augmented them with a few extra from the sturdier containers in her now wrecked outpost, Mystique had decided not to burden her wounded foot with too much running, and had backtracked for the ATV. She'd need her energy when she met her quarry, who was proving annoyingly resilient. Burdened by the heavy armour he was wearing, his tracks were appallingly easily to follow. He'd travelled a surprising distance in the interim, but he couldn't escape her. It was past time to finish this.

Robotnik took only a moment to assess the vehicle she was using -a standard unarmoured ATV, built for speed rather than durability- before stepping out from behind the tree, taking advantage of the brief instant where she was confused by the tracks in front of her –he'd crossed and recrossed the ground deliberately to muddy the waters-, his fuse already lit. As she tried to level the rifle she was holding towards his face, the improvised fragmentation grenade he had made that morning had already left his hand, and for once he got the range perfect. The grenade exploded near the back of the vehicle's undercarriage, just enough to tip it forward and flip it up, hopefully gaining him the best of both worlds-the ATV would be damaged enough that it could not be quickly repaired, but not enough that it would be worthless for salvage later. Mystique, unfortunately, was agile enough to dive out of the vehicle when it began to flip, instead of being crushed between it and the ground as Robotnik had hoped. She came up, rifle in hand, and took off a chunk of bark from Robotnik's tree as he ducked behind it. Emerging the far side, he took a shot, which went wide entirely, and then ran, gauntlets shielding his face, for a different tree. Though not as dominant as in the forest, trees were still plentiful in the marsh, providing them both with good cover. He reached his new tree unscathed, but when he turned Mystique was gone. Aware she had hardly given up, he scanned the area anxiously in every direction. Stealth was not his forte, and it seemed that he had now lost his chance to press his advantage. A shot sparked suddenly off his ankle, harmless but stinging, and instantly he fled for a different tree. A flash of blue caught his eye no more than fifteen feet away, and he fired blindly at it. There was no indication of whether or not he'd hit anything. Then a counter took off a piece of his ear. He fired in the direction the shot had come and decided to find a better position, selecting the overturned ATV as the best cover in the area. Arriving there, he rounded the side to come face to face with Mystique.

She was as surprised as him, but somehow he managed to react first. Aware trying to operate the rifle was futile at close quarters, he grabbed at her with a gauntlet, whereupon she punched his broken nose hard. Rearing back with pain, he flung her violently away, over the ATV and into the lake. There was a splash, and Robotnik charged forward to finish her off, to find her vanished again. He scanned the surface of the water, wondering if there was something he was missing in the shadows, but all he saw was his own reflection. Mystique had vanished. He was about to turn away to look elsewhere when his reflection suddenly lunged at him, bursting up from the water and dragging him under it, arms wrapped around his neck. Underwater, losing air quickly, Robotnik pummelled himself, punching and punching his doppelganger's chest as it held him, lent strength by desperation. Just as he was on the verge of succumbing, the deathgrip on his throat was loosened slightly, and he was able to break the surface, gasping for air and flinging his double away. He struggled upright, assault rifle in hand, as Mystique reassumed her true form and closed the distance. He got the barrel of the rifle to her chest just as her handgun barrel found his forehead, but having quicker reactions, she was the one who fired first.

_Clickclickclick._

Robotnik smiled, and finally spoke, the first words either of them had exchanged.

"Misfire." Maybe that dunking had done him some good after all. He pulled the trigger on his own weapon.

_Click. _No. No it hadn't. There was a short pause as both of them wondered what to do next. Then Robotnik slowly drew the sword at his belt, the one he'd fashioned the previous day, tossing aside the rifle. Mystique backed off slightly, out of reach of the blade, but kept hold of her handgun. Her own rifle was somewhere at the bottom of the pool, but the handgun would make a quite serviceable club if she got the chance to use it.

There was another long pause, as the two tired warriors observed each other, too exhausted to move first. Robotnik studied his opponent, calculating. He carried a sword he knew little of using, but his adversary couldn't know that. And yet...her stance was confident, knowing he had a sword and she didn't. Not arrogant -there was caution in her eyes, wariness, but no fear and certainly no resignation. She thought she could deal with him. Interesting...

He moved. Or tried to. As soon as he raised the blade to swing, Mystique lunged low, one arm transforming into something sharp and long as she moved, aiming for the spot on his armour Raidou's sword had punctured the previous day. Belatedly Robotnik tried to parry, but he underestimated her speed, and instead caught her face with the flat of his blade with the clumsy swing. This proved enough to distract Mystique, however, and her aim went awry, her arm/claw sliding off armour beside the vulnerable spot. Her body followed the lunge, colliding heavily with Robotnik's legs and toppling him forward. He rolled over to find her already up and facing him, arm/claw raised to skewer him. In desperation he flung the sword he held in an attempt to delay or distract her. For the wrong reasons, he succeeded. The sword spun in the air and the steel hilt, rather than the blade, struck her forehead. Aware this was his only chance, Robotnik arose with the speed of Sonic from intelligent conversation and put everything he had into a strike to Mystique's forehead as she staggered. The shapeshifter was knocked over backwards with the strike, and was disorientated enough by the impact that she did not immediately get up, allowing Robotnik to pick up his sword and lunge wildly, aware that in a prolonged hand to hand battle she would hold the advantage. As she recovered her wits, her foot tangled in Robotnik's legs, sending him toppling over on top of her. He thrust out his hands to spare himself the impact, and his own weight drove the sword deeply into Mystique's chest. She screamed as the blade pierced her, and Robotnik, standing up, stabbed her twice more, where he thought the heart was (unfortunately, Robotnik was not as knowledgeable regarding biology as he was in the field of mechanics). He threw her back into the pool for good measure, sword still embedded in her body. She'd already shown one unusual ability, and Robotnik was not going to risk resurrection being among her others. Besides, he had a spare.

When Robotnik recovered his breath and his composure, he realised that staying here in his current condition would not strictly be tactical, and he forced himself to his feet. Gathering as many weapons as he could find, he placed them in the ATV, which was much less damaged than he'd feared. A hacked off tree branch proved sufficient to lever it upright, and it took him only a few minutes to patch it up enough to carry him. Inside, he found the keycard for the outpost, as well as further unused weapons, and fuel canisters. Deciding not to linger, he set off immediately.

Arriving safely, Robotnik breathed again. He had genuinely been expecting a return of the shapeshifter, healed and vengeful, on his way back to the outpost. Dismantling the ATV to prevent it being appropriated, he inserted the keycard he'd found and walked into his new home as rain began to fall. Despite the flames, much of the important equipment had been kept in sealed airtight crates, so while the base was now less well stocked than it had been originally, there was still enough equipment and supplies for his purposes, and it was far more palatable than his flimsy metal shelter of the previous night. Slumping into the miraculously undamaged swivel chair, Robotnik wondered if every contestant was so durable. He certainly would not mess with the enforcers again after this little experience. Dipping into some of the surviving rations, he watched the screens, and slowly began to relax, contrasting where he was now to what he'd had at the start of the day. He had food, shelter, a swivel chair, and exclusive salvage rights to an ATV. What more could any self respecting evil genius want?

Well, a steel refinery, a trained surgeon, and some bodyguards would be nice, but those aside, he'd take what he had.

* * *

At the lake Robotnik had left, all was quiet. With the hum of the ATV engine long faded into the distance, the waters were still. Up to the point where a blue fist suddenly broke the surface in the shallows clutching a somewhat clumsily forged sword with more grace than its true owner ever had. Mystique had stayed down almost an hour, fearing Robotnik would be waiting with a rifle if she re-emerged prematurely. Thankfully, one of the things morphing could provide was gills. She hadn't been cut like that in a long time, and if she had her way, she wouldn't be again.


	3. Modifications

_Well, I survived round 1, anyway. Thanks to judges and KK. Thi's an intermission, mostly concerned with Robotnik adding some things to Mystique's ATV_

**Modifications**

Initially, Robotnik tried to feel remorseful for that blue morpher's death, but it was quite difficult to do so when he felt her legacy every time he moved, as a burn or bullet wound flared in pain. The first few days after his victory, he did little beyond spreading his cloak like a canopy over the ATV to protect it from the rain. He simply hadn't the energy, and he sat limply in the swivel chair eating provisions and watching the screens. Once he replaced the shattered light-bulb from a box of spares, he simply sat there, slowly healing from the immense beating he had taken. He was so consumed by it that he almost forgot to set his nose back in place.

Originally, he had intended to retrieve Klunk once he'd occupied the structure, or at least stolen some materials. But, even if he had had the energy, as soon as he returned to the outpost after his victory, a torrential downpour of rain had begun, and, whatever chance he had of crossing the island in clement weather, he knew there was no possibility he could defeat a contestant in a flooded jungle. Klunk would be terribly rusted by the time the rain ended, but that could not be helped. He'd have to fend for himself for the time being.

After a few days had passed, Robotnik realised that sitting in the base like a rag doll waiting for another contestant or Enforcer to swoop at him was tantamount to suicide. The reason he'd attacked the outpost in the first place was to gain materials to build with, so he had best start using them. After watching the screens for a further few days, with nothing noteworthy occurring, he decided that the other participants were most likely gone to ground themselves to seek shelter from the rain, and went to work.

His tools were still over by Raidou's clearing, but most basic tools were supplied in the outpost, and given time, with simple tools he could make complicated tools, and with complicated tools and enough material, he could make anything. His first task was simple –resetting the blue morpher's tripwires, maintaining the links to CCTV within the base, but also re-rigging most of them so that they also triggered nasty and imaginative traps. Hence securing his position, Robotnik could go to work on the ATV undisturbed, or at least wouldn't be surprised if he was.

His first priority was to restore his armour, patching the gaps with scrap metal and scraping away rust as it began to form. His armour had saved his life numerous times already, and would probably do so again. While his restored version was less majestic than his original suit, it would serve him adequately.

The first thing he did with the ATV was to install the swivel chair, securely, allowing him to spin 360°, regardless of the direction the ATV was facing. Riveting it to the ATV's frame was relatively simple. Attaching metal from one of the airtight boxes inside to the back of the chair to shield him from behind, he also created a crude ejector seat. It wasn't much –a small explosive charge, ignited by a pedal which sparked of another metal surface. It would be enough to detach the light swivel chair from its stem, but the newly installed armour would protect Robotnik from injury(hopefully) as the explosion blasted the chair just far enough to clear the wreckage of the vehicle, which would presumably be subject to a devastating attack moments later. Robotnik would have preferred to give his ejector seat a rotor blade or rocket propulsion, but for now he'd have to settle for what he had. It would get him out of the way of one attack. In theory. He couldn't test it, as if he did, he'd need to reset the whole thing again. So he'd just have to hope he wouldn't need to use it. If he lost the ATV, he'd have to fight by hand, and he'd seen how that turned out. Blind luck had allowed him to survive the morpher. It wouldn't happen twice.

That much dealt with, he moved on to the bodywork, and the fairly simple task of hammering sharp pieces of shrapnel into the ATV's frame. It could give him a vital edge, but he'd leave ramming opponents to a last resort. That would require close contact, and a creature with the agility of that morpher could easily leap and unseat him. Which meant he'd need at least one ranged weapon in the bargain. There were two slots for weapons already installed on the ATV for the benefit of patrols, and all he had to do was slide two rifles into their places either side of the steering wheel. Machine guns would probably have been better, but machine guns he didn't have. He rigged up levers and wiring to fire them. It would have been twice as efficient to fire them by hand, but if Robotnik had a weakness in engineering terms, it was for over elaborate designs.

That done, he decided he needed a way of detecting an approach from behind. He experimented with a periscope derived from shined metals, but the images thus produced were distorted and vague, so he removed one of the base's CCTV cameras and set it up facing backwards behind the chair, attached to another rifle, linked to a screen removed from the base and placed on the front of the ATV, so that it acted as a rear-view mirror. The screen unit still controlled the camera's ability to pan around its station, so that by moving the camera, the rifle was also moved and given a wider field of fire. A trick he was proud of.

Finally, he installed a catapult to launch grenades. A bent back tree branch, set into the front of the ATV, with a metal drinking mug attached to the tip. It would fling a hand grenade several metres further than he could throw it, but took time to reload. This, he was able to test, by the simple method of not removing the grenade's pin before the test firing. It worked, not perfectly, but well enough to be worth the effort.

He considered briefly using the two remaining fuel canisters to create some form of flamethrower, but decided that he'd be better served using the fuel merely as fuel. In the monsoon, any ignition method would be hit and miss, and probably even if he succeeded, he would do little damage in the current weather. He'd been pleasantly surprised, when he'd returned after his battle, to find that the outpost contained a generator which ran things such as the lights and the door. Eventually, he might be able to convert the ATV engine to run from the generator, but for now, he'd have to be satisfied.

While taking his new upgraded ATV for a brief test drive to see how it handled, he discovered that among its functions was a radio, something he hadn't known was common in ATVs. On impulse he flicked it on.

"_Every move you make,_

_Every breath you take,_

_Every sound you make,_

_Every step you take,_

_I'll be watching you..._

"_Welcome back to Grand Cross Airways, the one –that's right the __**one **__and only station broadcasting to Grand Cross Island! We are dedicated here at GCA to entertaining all our enforcers as they go about keeping those nasty contestants in line! You've just been listening to a song request by the director of BORED, a fantastic fellow I am sadly not allowed to name. He, she, or it urges any participants in the tournament thinking of double crossing BORED to listen carefully._

"_The requests are coming in thick and fast, folks, but stay tuned and we will get to as many as we can. Nagi would like to wish Raidou the best of luck and ask him to hurry back, while Edgar Jacobi has this message for Rorschach: 'Die, Bastard'. And of course all the Enforcers would like to send a big shoutout to our newest listener, Dr. Ivo Robotnik, who, due to his recent victory over Mystique, they have now been granted a mandate to kill as soon as possible. Here's a song to keep his spirits up._

"_Always look on the bright side of life (dee-dum, deedumdeedumdeedum)_

_Always look on the light side of life (dee-dum, deedumdeedumdeedum)"_

Robotnik lunged for the 'off' switch. He'd begun to recover his composure as he upgraded the ATV to something he could use, something useful, restoring his old arrogance. Now, he'd discovered that who knew how many enforcers would shortly come gunning for him. Fantastic.

000000000

_00000000_

**The songs may not be word perfect; I'm just writing them from memory. I tried to keep the upgrades within the realms of possibility, but I'm not sure I succeeded. Ah well...**


	4. Round 2: Robotnik v Shadow v Ginger

_Round 2, folks! And it's a three-way combat. Disclaimers to Sega and 20th Century Fox_

_I've stolen a line from Terry Pratchett at one point in this chapter. Regards to TTA and Skipper, as well as Judges Khellan Rafe, Moonshine's Guide, Angel Lucifel, and Avatar. Mystique's fate may be resolved by the time I post this. I can't really see a Sega character cursing, which may impact on my depiction of Shadow._

**Round 2: Robotnik v Shadow the Hedgehog v Ginger, Steve, and Erwin, owned by Skipper1313 and The Talking Absol respectively.**

"Gentlemen, we have a problem" Ofdensen announced, stepping into what passed for the Enforcers' lounge. Said enforcers looked up with badly feigned disinterest, and most of them returned their attention to whatever had been occupying them prior to his entry. They were settling in quite well, but dropping their guards completely, even in the fortress, would be unwise.

Jorus, whose eyes had been closed as he exerted influence over competitors, suddenly opened them. "Yes?" Maybe he'd caught some of Ofdensen's thoughts.

"Dr. Ivo Robotnik." That caught Shadow's attention, but the other Enforcers remained only marginally interested, by all appearances. Only Jorus deigned to speak.

"What of him?"

"Well, as you may be aware, he has attacked and defeated an Enforcer." Mystique had remained MIA since that point, and no one was quite certain what she might be doing. Not even BORED's extensive camera network could keep constant track of a creature that could be a hedgehog or a fish from moment to moment. It wasn't clear whether she was going rogue or merely being very careful while returning to base. This circumstance had allowed Ofdensen to omit 'lady' from his initial greeting.

"This alone would not have warranted being brought to your attention, but since his victory, he has been an inactive contestant, avoiding conflict by not venturing out of the outpost he won. This, naturally, gives him an unfair advantage, allowing him to avoid battle and fight on his own terms-which, gentlemen, is where you come in. So, at this point, I'm going to ask you to draw straws."

An elaborately decorated pint glass containing multicoloured straws suddenly emerged from a dumbwaiter built into the table. A pointless extravagance, true, but the effect helped to remind the contestants of the power BORED possessed. 'Look how much money we can afford to waste'. The Enforcers each reached over and drew, and it was Shadow who got the shortest.

"Huh...guess I'd better go get reacquainted with Eggman." And then he was gone. Ofdensen picked up the glass and went on his way before any of the others could realise the draw was rigged. Shadow was clearly the best option-he had previous experience of Robotnik, and had a good record as an Enforcer so far-defeating a stowaway, even if he was unable to kill him. It was doubtless going to be an interesting battle.

* * *

Ginger had long since decided that the magma chamber she had found herself in would make the perfect lair, but she couldn't stay there indefinitely, hoping that more skinbags would simply fall in. She had laid more eggs in what had once been Victor Vega, and while it was uncertain if they could hatch given his somewhat...mangled state, she nevertheless had to stay and guard them in case another skinbag wandered in while she was away hunting. This meant that Steve and Erwin would have to hunt for themselves and bring prey back to her. She did not yet have so many minions that she could afford to waste them lightly, and none of the skinbags she had seen had died easily, so she instructed them as best she could to strictly avoid attempting to hunt anything but small furbags. But her control would be limited if they succumbed to bloodlust. So she worried.

* * *

Robotnik's mood had been dented after the radio announcement, and he mostly stayed in the outpost for the period after it. The monsoon had negated most of his little surprises, as sodden tripwires snapped and traps triggered themselves, or wooden levers sodden with moisture either were too swollen to move at all or triggered by the extra weight. Some traps maintained their integrity, but Robotnik was now feeling very exposed. It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for him, but he didn't dare leave to reset his protections. Until the engine noise of the ATV in the distance forced him to change his mind. Rather less distance than he would have liked-the constant deluge of falling water had masked the approach. As such, he didn't have time to do more than snatch up his weapons and assume his seat on his own upgraded ATV. Ideally, he would have avoided conflict entirely, but he'd gained the outpost with great difficulty, and he didn't intend to lose it. Removing his once immaculate, now tattered and torn cape from the canopy, he settled it around his shoulders. As the engine noise whined closer, he raised a rifle. Klunk was still back at Raidou's 'clearing', so he'd have to defend his corner on his own.

Finally, his adversary came into view, and Robotnik could only laugh.

"_Sonic!?"_

Whatever respect he had for the tournament organisers evaporated in that moment. He couldn't think of a less suitable Enforcer. Sonic, though powerful, was unfailingly ethical, and he would never kill intentionally. More, Robotnik knew his abilities inside out, while the Doctor himself was always full of surprises, even more so on this island where he had had to improvise. And they had sent _Sonic _after _him_? No. It couldn't be.

"Well, now what do we have here? Contestant or Enforcer?" It was difficult to make his voice heard over the sound of the storm, but the Hedgehog appeared to understand.

"Enforcer, Doctor. And I'm here to take you down." The voice was different to what he was expecting, and as Shadow moved the ATV a few feet closer, Robotnik got a clearer look at him.

_When did he dye his fur? _The Sonic he was used to was dark blue, whereas this creature was apparently black with a red crest (although colour was difficult to discern given the clouds and trees blocking the light.) In all other aspects he was similar to Sonic, down to the gloves and shoes...excepting, of course, the large machine gun mounted on the ATV he was driving. That in itself was completely out of character for the Hedgehog-why would he use mechanical transport when he was a far more formidable adversary afoot? Especially when Robotnik was an expert with machines; 'Sonic' would only be at a disadvantage using one in his attack. The ATV would merely slow him down. Whatever this creature was, Sonic he was not. And Robotnik's IQ of 300, having reached this conclusion in a nanosecond, had more to tell him in this brief instant. Since this creature wasn't Sonic, it was an unknown quantity. And surprises were dangerous. His respect for the tournament organisers returned in a rush. It was an evil ploy worthy of, well, Dr. Robotnik. He continued speaking, taking the opportunity to study the ATV his opponent was using.

"Indeed? I'm honoured. Tell me...who are you, then, that you are so confident that you can defeat the great Dr. Robotnik?" It was a light, quick model, not quite as durable as the Doctor's own model.

The Black Hedgehog appeared surprised. "You don't know me?"

Robotnik paused. "No...No, I can't say that I do." The tyres were armoured, however. They'd be difficult to puncture quickly.

Shadow hesitated. Was it possible that Eggman had forgotten him? They'd been involved in some battles that were memorable, to say the least. Then again, Shadow had been an amnesiac himself. Maybe the Doctor had gotten injured somehow in his previous battle. Or he was playing some game. Either way, his telling his name couldn't do either of them any harm.

"Shadow. Shadow the Hedgehog."

"...Ah...a relative, perhaps? Well...Shadow, walk away now, and I'll grant you your life." There were no ramming spikes on Shadow's bike. If it came to a clash, Robotnik would deal more damage than he took.

"You will?"

"..."

"That's the Eggman I remember, even if you don't. Well, it won't matter much longer..."

And he fired a burst from his chain gun. Robotnik spun his chair, taking the rounds on the armoured back, and by the time he was facing his adversary again he had raised his shield. Listening to the rounds rattling harmlessly off it, Robotnik tried to think tactics. The ATV his opponent was using would be ludicrously easy to incapacitate with a few well timed rounds in the engine, even if the tyres were armoured, but then 'Shadow', if that was his real name, would just jump right out and carry on fighting. If he was anything like Sonic, and they appeared similar enough that they probably had at least some common abilities, he would be infinitely harder to fight on the ground. Robotnik would need to incapacitate, or at least wound, his adversary before he attacked the ATV body.

That, of course, was more easily said than done. The Doctor was fairly well protected where he was, between the ATV's newly armoured body and the shield he held protecting him to the front, but as soon as he emerged from his shell to return fire he would undoubtedly be riddled. He could fire blind with the rifles, but Shadow was intelligent enough to keep moving, and odds of a result were slim. He was protected from all angles provided he spun the chair, but attacking would not be easy. The click of the machine gun's empty clip was inaudible over the storm, and Shadow kept firing from a handgun while he was reloading, so there were no openings. Robotnik could survive, but he couldn't really do anything in an offensive capacity. Not unless he was very lucky or Shadow ran out of ammunition. It was due to be a long wait.

He did however, have some advantages. Shadow couldn't close the distance for fear of being rammed, so he had to snipe from afar with his chain gun-an inaccurate weapon in the best of circumstances. The occasional round that slipped through rattled harmlessly off Robotnik's armour-unless Shadow managed to hit him directly in the face, he was safe. Whenever the Doctor charged, Shadow had to keep well away-in close combat, his ATV would fare worse. And so it continued, the tough, slower mechanic, chasing the faster, weaker hedgehog. Just like old times.

* * *

Not far away, Steve and Erwin were doing their best, but most of the island's population of animals had gone to ground for the duration of the monsoon, and prey of any substance was difficult to find. Stealthy as they were, they had thus far been unable to snare anything bigger than mice, which was among the reasons that they were less than cautious when they heard the rattle of gunfire. Switching their colouring to speckled grey in order to best approach the battlers, they hissed quietly in delight upon seeing Shadow. Had the Predalien spawn been humans, they would have shared smiles. Here was a _big_ furbag. There'd be good eating in him, with maybe some space left over for spawning.

Steve, with his heat vision, was less impeded by the darkness, although the ATV engine initially caused him some confusion, so he was the one who lunged...just as Shadow decided that he was wasting ammunition and reached to one side for the compartment containing the Chaos Emeralds. Thus, Steve's claws, intended for the spine, punched through his right shoulder instead. Shadow screamed, but held on to his Emerald.

"What the-Chaos Blast!" Steve was thrown backwards into a tree by the yellow burst of light, and did not immediately get up, but his claws did even more damage as they were torn free of the hedgehog's shoulder. Shadow hesitated, looking from the two monsters behind him to Robotnik in front (who was now looking out from behind his shield) and came to a decision.

"Oh, screw this...nobody mentioned monsters." And he was gone, a black and red blur fading into the horizon, leaving the ATV behind. Steve and Erwin looked from where he had been to where Robotnik was now.

Robotnik was doing his own assessments.

_There are two of them...two monsters. They're similar, but not identical. Teams were forbidden, so...either BORED are unleashing random monsters on the island to thin out contestants, or they're somebody's minions, like those devils. Yes, that's more likely. So, that means that they are...scouting, and will report back. After which they'll be down on me with more. That –damn- means I can't let them leave._

He looked up. "And what manner of creatures are you?"

The creatures were either incapable of speech or disinclined to do so, as they made no response beyond a hiss. Steve and Erwin, despite themselves, were now uneasy. Their prey had vanished and now here was a skinbag. Attacking would mean disobeying their Queen. The last one had done a lot of damage with his silver thing, and the one they were looking at was very shiny. But Steve was also angry and in pain, and since he couldn't catch the inflictor, he'd have to settle for this one. He screeched a battle clarion and charged. Erwin hesitated, but remembering Ginger's edict, turned and fled into the trees. Robotnik cursed, but he was more than occupied with the other Alien.

Steve's ill advised charge was punished as Robotnik emptied his rifles into the onrushing monster, and though many rounds thudded harmlessly into earth, the ones that struck Predalien served to be just enough to upset his lunge, causing him to crash into the ATV's spiked body. The entire vehicle flipped, and Robotnik was spilled out onto the damp ground. Steve's head briefly appeared above him, over the side of the vehicle, but withdrew as Robotnik fired a handgun at him. The head withdrew, but not before a drop of its blood dropped and stung Robotnik's forehead. He screamed and wiped it away with his steel gauntlet, before rolling over and bolting for freedom, sprinting away from the vehicle before spinning and shooting at-

- Absolutely nothing. There was no discernable sign of the creature beyond some blood on the side of the ATV being quickly cleaned away by the rain. Robotnik scanned his surroundings, making sure to include up and down, but saw no hint of the monster. The rain was a double edged sword, in that it limited the damage dealt by the acidic blood, quickly diluting it when left on an exposed surface, but also made the grey black Predaliens close to impossible to see, even without the chameleonic ability. So...until the Alien chose to reveal itself, Robotnik was at a loss. He spun in a circle, trying to watch every direction at once, aware that he had little hope of ever-

T_here was a place with no rain! _He was looking directly at a transparent patch of ground some twelve feet in front of him where although he could see no monster, raindrops were sliding off nothing. He had no way of knowing about the chameleonic ability, but Robotnik was not one to take chances, and clearly, _something_ was in that space. Surreptitiously dropping a grenade at his feet, Robotnik turned away from the anomaly theatrically and suddenly bolted in the opposite direction as though he'd seen something. Turning as he heard the explosion, he realised that he had been right. However, he had underestimated the creature's speed as it charged to pounce on his back, and the blast had served only to propel it towards him. As the creature landed on top of him, Robotnik managed to grab the creature's jaws as they lunged for his throat, preventing them from eviscerating him for the present. He could feel the creature's spiked tail lashing at his (thankfully, armoured) legs, but they would have to take care of themselves. He could also feel the creature's hot breath on his face as it strained to reach his (shamefully, un-armoured) head. Four sets of mandibles and innumerable sharp teeth were staring him in the face. And, on the creature's head, a drop of its acidic blood from an earlier wound was, painfully slowly, sliding over the surface, where it would eventually fall into Robotnik's face, causing just enough pain to break his concentration and allow the monster to bite his head in half. And this, naturally, was holding most of his attention. He watched the droplet of acid slide down the smooth surface of the creature's head, where it would eventually reach the indentation of the creature's jaw and fall. He had no time.

With a supreme effort, he summoned his strength and flung the monster away, where it landed just past his feet. Drawing his last handgun, he fired it empty, the explosive rounds at point blank range penetrating the armour, but not quickly enough to be instantly fatal. The Alien lunged for him again, but it was weaker now, and he was able to hold it off with one gauntlet while ramming his sword into its underbelly with the other. Its legs collapsed, but it wasn't dead, and did not proceed to die until he flung it off him and stabbed it several more times in the spine. Shrieking a death cry, it finally stilled. Standing, Robotnik realised his armour was covered in acidic blood, though none of it had apparently penetrated through to flesh, so he lay in the rain for several minutes, catching his breath and waiting for the acid to be washed away. Subsequently, however, he went back to work. The other creature would be back with help soon, so he had preparations to make.

* * *

Steve's death cry echoed across the island, chilling all those who heard it. It echoed through the cave network, reaching Ginger, who arose instantly, some instinct making her tense. Erwin, who could travel incredibly quickly, reached her shortly afterwards, and told her what had occurred. With a shriek of her own, she leapt from the caves, dragging the more cowardly of her spawns with her. All hell hadn't broken loose. It was merely Ginger. But if she found the skinbag who'd killed her spawn, he would not be able to tell the difference.

* * *

Erwin crept through the trees, watching every shadow, until he reached Steve's corpse. Had he been the spawn with heat vision, he would have been able to tell that Steve had by this stage been dead for several minutes. As he did not have this ability, he scuttled over to the crumpled form and nudged it...thus crossing the tripwire Robotnik had set up and igniting a pair of grenades which flung him forwards towards the outpost. Robotnik, sitting on the now mobile ATV behind the creature, opened his eyes. Red searchlight beams extended from them, latching on to Erwin, who instantly faded his skin to grey and froze. But Robotnik knew how to find him and merely smiled.

"Ha! I am not so easily fooled!"

Erwin leapt. Robotnik fired the machine gun he'd take from Shadow's abandoned ATV. Erwin did his best, but once he was in the air there was little he could really do. Robotnik emptied a thirty bullet magazine into the Predalien, as well as two rifles via his levers, moving the ATV forward all the while. Erwin landed clumsily and painfully just short of the doctor, and unwisely tried to flee, thus giving Robotnik a chance to reload and fire on his back. He collapsed well before he reached safety.

Robotnik let out a long breath. It hadn't been easy, but he'd killed the two monsters, and come out of it with no more than minor injuries. A victory for the history books, without a doubt. When he returned to Robotropolis, he'd make certain to put it on the curriculum. Pressing the accelerator, he manoeuvred the ATV back towards the entrance of the outpost, beside where Shadow's was now parked. It was crafted quite well, though nothing to what Robotnik could do with a few half decent tools. A spare vehicle was always advisable.

He dismantled both vehicles and took out his keycard, intending to return to his outpost and heal. Some instinct made him look up as he swiped it through the slot. He hurled himself aside with a scream as Ginger landed in the space where he had been, diving under the nearest ATV and rolling out the far side. An advantage of his round physique. One of Ginger's claws drove into his chest plate, punching straight through it and throwing him backwards, a serious but not devastating wound as he got up, facing this new monster. Ginger, being older and more cunning than her spawn, had decided not to attempt the direct approach, and only blind luck had allowed Robotnik to survive. Quite a bit of luck, he realised, as Ginger shrieked in rage and pain. As she landed, the closing door had pinned her tail, leaving her unable to move any distance. Spinning she tried to snap at her tail, the appendage that had caused her so much trouble against Mercer, but it was armoured for a reason. She was trapped. The door would eventually crush the tip of her tail and free her, but until then, Robotnik was out of her reach. Screeching, she thrashed frantically, her raw rage frightening to witness even for viewers miles away, never mind the egg-shaped man barely out of reach.

Robotnik looked into the monster's eyes, and was fervently glad the door had closed when it had.

_So...you must be the master. Oh, if only I had my roboticiser! Nobody could challenge me with you by my side. However, since that's impossible...goodbye, monster. You almost had me._

He dipped for his weapons, and encountered a problem. They were all either on the ATVs, which Ginger was currently standing on, or in the outpost. He had two grenades at his belt, but if he used them, he'd completely wreck the vehicles, leaving him with no equipment to face his next challenge. Given his previous experience, he had no desire to try to hunt down another Enforcer. With no other option, he edged towards Steve's corpse to remove the sword embedded in his back. About halfway there, the fallen Erwin suddenly coiled his arm, which had somehow transformed into a barbed tentacle, around his ankle. Thrashing, Robotnik kicked at him, striking several hits to the creature's face, although the pockmarked shell was now acid coated and began eating at his boot. Erwin's other arm, now a long spiked mace, crashed into Robotnik's chest, penetrating the armour but causing only slight damage. Another kick broke the monster's grip, and Robotnik scrambled free, fleeing to Steve's body. Erwin was too weak to follow as the doctor withdrew the sword, to find that Steve's blood had actually etched the metal. When Robotnik swung it experimentally at a nearby tree, the blade snapped entirely a couple of inches above the blade. He flung it aside in disgust and looked down at his pierced armour. Erwin, weak as he was, should not have breached it, but Steve's blood had badly eroded the surface, and it was now as brittle as wood.

With his edged weapon shattered, Robotnik had only his grenades. He tried to back away, but tripped over Steve's body, and had only just managed to sit up when the metal door finally succeeded in crushing Ginger's tail, thus freeing her to charge him, the severed tip of her tail bleeding acid on the ground behind her. Robotnik dipped for his first grenade and flung it, hoping to hurt the creature or slow it down. Ginger screeched in triumph as the metal man tried to get up, and doing so, swallowed the grenade. She didn't slow, and he thought for a moment her acidic anatomy had disabled the ignition. A swipe from her claw knocked him flat again, but no killing strike followed. Robotnik, puzzled but not displeased, crawled out from under her and turned. Ginger was standing perfectly still, poised to kill but not acting. Robotnik began edging towards the guns on the ATVs. Then the Predalien Queen leapt into action...

* * *

Ginger had few emotions, and usually ranged between maternal instinct, hunger, and pain. Fear was something new to her. The shiny skinbag had just laid an egg! She'd felt the hard, round thing slide down her throat, and an instant later the _pain, _this terrible _pain, _had followed. It was clear to her what had happened. He'd laid an egg, and now his spawn was trying to escape her body. Terrible panic arose in the Predalien's mind, as ancestral instincts came to the fore. Hunter though she was, a Queen dealt with threats to her hive as much as threats to herself. And she would not jeopardise the two spawn potentially growing in Vic Vega, or even the cowardly Erwin, who even now was trying to crawl away. She was left with only one option.

Robotnik could only watch, mystified, as Ginger suddenly sprang away from him and fled into the jungle. But he knew he couldn't let her leave unchallenged, to gather more spawn and ambush him some day he wasn't expecting her. So he wearily climbed into an ATV and followed. She left a clear trail in her haste, even for a man unpractised in tracking, smashing through bushes and small trees, her tail trailing acid in her wake. Chain gun at the ready, he followed.

As it turned out, she did not flee far, merely beyond the immediate vicinity of her spawns, and there began to tear herself to pieces. Predaliens were durable. It was not a quick process.

Once he was satisfied that she could not be disembowelling herself merely to make him complacent, Robotnik decided to leave her be. He shook his head in amazement, wondering what he had done to make the slavering beast suicidal. That had to use up the remainder of his luck.

"Chaos Spear!"

"Whuh?"

The burst of light hit him in the back, sending Robotnik sprawling. When he looked up, Shadow was there, right arm hanging limp but a jewel clenched in his left fist and a smile of triumph on his face.

"Hello again, doctor."

Said doctor tried to focus his eyes. In the eternal downpour, it was difficult to see his adversary.

"Shadow." He couldn't help laughing, even aware of his approaching fate. An unethical hedgehog was so refreshing. "Congratulations on your pragmatism. So...what will you do with me?"

Shadow cocked his head. "Well, you know, -Chaos Spear! I'm not certain myself. I've been ordered to kill you, but..." Shadow wasn't certain he could kill the doctor in cold blood. While they'd never been friends -far from it-, they'd never exactly been enemies either. He'd even helped the doctor gain a few Chaos Emeralds, back in the day.

Robotnik, to his surprise, was having similar thoughts. He'd eviscerate Sonic in a moment, but this new creature was oddly endearing, a duplicate of that annoying hedgehog but with an injection of some much needed cynicism and pragmatism. Then his hand found a decent sized rock on the ground behind him and he sat up. Shadow blurred instantly, backing off three paces.

_That's impressive. Very impressive indeed! This will be difficult_.

As an engineer, as well as a person, Dr. Ivo Robotnik was a perfectionist. However, he was now about to make an assumption, pound it like a nail, and hang his life on it. That assumption was that Shadow the Hedgehog's abilities in speed terms equated more or less to Sonic's. Although Sonic had inhuman speed, his reaction time was merely good. That did not usually matter, as when at full flight he could run directly over obstacles, including up vertical walls and over gravel that he was too quick to dislodge. Even if he ran over a cliff, his momentum was usually enough that his fall was diagonal, with its force directed forwards, so he could hit the ground running. About the only thing that could really stop the Hedgehog on the run was a large, sharp, horizontal spike pointed in his direction. (Or a supersonic laser Robotnik had built once, but that's another story). But, if you could stop Sonic getting up to speed, he was manageable. And there was a moment between when he decided to run and when his limbs began to move that could be exploited. Biting the inside of his cheek, Robotnik spat blood.

"I think...you've achieved your objective, Hedgehog. But...there's something...you should...know." Robotnik's voice was gradually fading as he said this, and Shadow stepped closer to hear him over the rain, Chaos Emerald ready against trickery. But he couldn't quite resist listening. Much of what Dr. Eggman said was lies, but sometimes he could speak surprising truths.

"I'm listening, Eggman."

"Very well. Know this..." His voice was barely above a whisper, and Shadow stepped into arm's reach.

"My name...is..."

"DOCTOR!" He swung the rock like a club, aware that he'd only get one chance.

"IVO!" Shadow staggered back a step as the improvised stone club caught him across the jaw. He brought his Emerald hand up.

"ROBOTNIK!" The second wild swing crashed down between the Hedgehog's ears, and Shadow crumpled, Chaos Emerald spilling from his grip unused. Robotnik stood where he was, raindrops rattling off his weakened armour, debating his options. It would be politically unwise of him to kill another Enforcer, not after Mystique. Irritating the organisers too much would merely attract more of them. So he'd have to let Shadow live. The thought wasn't all that abhorrent to him-despite the beating he'd sustained, he rather liked the creature. Drawing one of his now dwindling supplies of shrapnel blades, he planted it in the ground just beyond the tip of the Hedgehog's nose. The message, hopefully, was clear. '_I let you live...now leave me be'. _That unfortunately meant Robotnik would have to leave the creature his keycard and his jewels. Whatever goodwill he earned by sparing the Hedgehog's life would certainly be outweighed if he took those. He'd keep the ATV and the guns, however. They were probably standard issue, and could be replaced.

Climbing into the ATV, he trundled back towards the outpost. He'd give Shadow enough time to leave, and then return for Ginger. Acidic blood and almost impenetrable plate armour...possibilities were quickly expanding for Dr. Ivo Robotnik. A break in the clouds-the first for days, was visible above the trees. It could be slightly safer in the forest now, so he could finally go and retrieve Klunk. He shuddered to think of the damage the monsoon had done to the mechanical chicken, considering the damage he himself had sustained.


	5. Encounters

_Hey folks. I won round 2. There ought to be a Round 3 here, against Khellan Rafe's Midou Ban, but I lost my memory stick halfway through the chapter, and he very kindly decided not to kill me. Thanks, Khellan! So this's a representation of the 'drawn' match_

_You may notice, I have a soft spot for henchpeople. _

**Encounters**

"Are these patrols absolutely necessary? All we've been doing so far is wandering around and occasionally getting killed."

One of the other three Patriots shrugged.

"You'd prefer to desert?" She'd intended it for irony, but glanced across to find the first speaker looking thoughtful.

"You know, it might almost be survivable out here now that Ginger and Joker are down..."

"Silence!" roared the Klokateer, driving the ATV, to the sides of which the four Patriots were clinging.

"You think so? You want Travis sent after you? He ain't known for his mercy, darling. Besides, Mystique's still out here somewhere, and she's just itching for a chance to prove her loyalty."

The first Patriot sighed. "I guess you're right." A nearby woodpecker cursed silently and took wing.

"My name's Chas, by the way."

"Trudy. Mildly irritated to meet you."

"Jasper" One of the others cut in.

"Nick"

"Number 457." The Klokateer noted, thawing briefly.

"Y'know, we don't have very inventive aliases."

"What do you expect, we're cannon fodder. You want to give out your Social Security number, be my guest!"

"Geez, calm down, babe, I'm only saying..."

"Silence!" the Klokateer roared again, and this time he was obeyed.

* * *

All in all, Robotnik's mood had improved along with his confidence after the last battle. He knew he'd survived by the skin of his teeth, but after his early scare, he'd proven to himself that he_ could_ hold his own against the other participants. If there was a more formidable contestant than the creature his radio called 'Ginger', he didn't want to meet it.

His victory had been rewarding in more ways than one. Many parts of the Predalien anatomy were an engineer's dream. With care, he'd collected impressive quantities of acid, always useful, and de-shelling provided him with _two_ replacement suits for his now acid eroded body armour. In addition, he'd also salvaged innumerable pointy sharp things, including a heavily spiked tail which could serve as a mace, a bag of acid tipped teeth, and a pair of unreliable but fascinating randomly morphing appendages that could be anything from lockpicks to hammers from moment to moment. Best of all, he had a new ATV and chaingun. Smaller and lighter than Mystiques, the ATV could still be useful in a pinch.

Despite his gains, however, there was one thing he didn't currently have to hand. A certain mechanical bird called Klunk. His value in combat situations was limited, but Robotnik was fond enough of his creation not to wish him ill. And now, Robotnik finally felt secure enough to venture to look for him. After crash testing his new suits of armour (a close range rifle shot could penetrate, but smaller weapons merely dented the surface. Barring a direct hit by an explosive, he was probably safe) and coating them with metal to disguise their true nature, he set off. He took Mystique's ATV, trusting his own handiwork over anyone else's. The only downside was that he had to leave the chaingun behind –it was too big and awkward to carry.

* * *

"Remind me again...why are we doing this?" Even threats of violence from the Klokateer had not halted Chas from complaining.

"It keeps the Contestants on their toes. Nobody wants unnecessary battles, so with us moving, they stay out of the forests near the fortress. Now shut up! Fucking hell, do want to draw every Contestant on the island?" Trudy had since given up in disgust, so Jasper had taken on the role of 'annoyed partner'. Chas finally quieted.

* * *

Meanwhile, Robotnik had chalked up another item on his list of 'things I need to learn if I survive this tournament'. Right next to 'not to annoy shapeshifting enforcers' and 'melee combat' was 'rural navigation'. It was a skill he'd never needed before arriving at the island, and now he was feeling its loss. The only landmark he could constantly rely on was the volcano, and he wasn't quite sure where that lay in relation to Raidou's clearing. And there was more than one newly created 'clearing' by this stage in the tournament. Everywhere he turned, there seemed to vast swathes of obliterated trees staring him in the face. Although the BORED organisers seemed to have had some foresight in the matter –the nearer one got to the central fortress, the more durable the native vegetation became, until he saw a few which had clearly survived direct hits from highly concentrated explosive shells. Making a note of that particular fact, aware it might be of use to him in future conflict, Robotnik was forced to eventually admit that he could not find the scene of his defeat, and he certainly was not about to call out in _these_ particular forests. After more than an hour of fruitless searching, he conceded defeat and headed for home. That at least, he knew he could find –the terrain remained soft after the rains, and his tyre tracks were clearly to be followed. It did occur to him until it was too late that perhaps his was not the _only _ATV on the island.

* * *

"Quiet!" Number 457 hissed, his black hood fluttering with the movement. This was such a deviation from his more usual "Silence!" that all four Patriots turned to look at him. One of the features in this particular ATV was a link to all the active cameras in the immediate area, letting the patrollers know when a Contestant was close. They would then pass close by, but not engage unless given no other choice. This made the Contestants nervous while minimising casualties. When the Klokateer killed the engine, they instantly heard the other engine, too close for comfort, and tensed.

"He's following us," Number 457 whispered, "and we can't outpace him while he has that ATV.

"Who is it?" Nick asked, drawing his weapon. There weren't many Contestants with ATVs at the moment, and Enforcers wouldn't bother following general patrols.

"Robotnik."

"Ok, folks, he's a mechanic. If it comes down to it, try to mess up his ride. He's not a melee fighter, so if we get him off his machine we've a chance."

"Who're you, the commentator? We've read the same files as you!" This flash of humanity from the Klokateer was a welcome surprise to the Patriots, but before they could respond the second ATV was upon them.

* * *

**Recording room, Grand Cross Fortress**

"We got conflict, folks! Robotnik's met a patrol!"

"Quick! Deploy some extra gear! I wanna see some dramatic whooshy angles!"

* * *

**The Forest**

There was an instant's mutual hesitation, but Robotnik reacted first, the patrol's orders not to engage giving him an instant's breathing space. He emptied rifles into the row of camera banks perched on the vehicle body, sending the entire contraption crashing down on the Klokateer and trapping him inside. The four Patriots instantly scattered, their greater discipline standing to them as they bolted to the four points of the compass. Jasper took a hit as Robotnik spun his chair and fired the rear gun, but the others made the trees. By this stage Robotnik was becoming pretty familiar with the general design of the BORED ATVs, and it took him only two bullets to temporarily immobilise the other vehicle. As Robotnik spun back to face the wreckage, Chas was firing from his left, testing his newly crafted carapace armour for the first time, but it was holding. Reversing, guessing the others would be trying to flank him, Robotnik raised his shield as Chas ducked back to reload his revolver, rendering the gesture unnecessary. Reloading one handed himself, Robotnik peppered the tree the Patriot was hiding behind, but this close to the fortress, barely dented the bark. As Chas emerged, Robotnik came close to a kill, but his arm was jolted as the reversing ATV backed into a tree. Chas threw himself back into hiding, raising a trembling hand to the blood at his temple. Another inch to the right, and he'd never have known he'd been hit. Firing blind around the tree, he aimed low, trying for Robotnik's tyres, but the uneven ground made his chances of success slim. As a rifle shot raised dust near his leg, he heard a sudden crash.

Robotnik's head jerked up as the Klokateer finally heaved aside the bank of screens, and Chas' life was saved yet again. Raising an assault rifle, the Klokateer crouched low as Robotnik spun to face him. A bullet from the doctor grazed the Klokateer's arm, but he didn't falter. Robotnik felt his entire arm shudder with the impact of the rounds on his shield. They were piercers, and were being fired at a fast enough rate that the metal was buckling at each impact. It couldn't be long before the bullets started penetrating. Left with no option, Robotnik ignored Chas and charged the Klokateer, firing his rifles empty in the process. He'd almost reached him when Nick suddenly dropped out of a tree.

Now, close quarters fighting was not something Robotnik favoured, but he'd gained some recent experience, and his height and weight gave him a natural advantage. However, Nick had more training and style, so the scuffle was by no means a foregone conclusion. Initially, the struggle was lent some urgency by the Klokateer still firing, but early on, Nick's foot triggered the grenade launcher, forcing the Klokateer to dive aside, and drop his rifle. Said grenade, by sheer luck or misfortune depending on your point of view, landed squarely in the ATV, blasting it to shrapnel, several shards of which struck the Klokateer, effectively removing him from the contest. However, Robotnik's howl of frustration –he'd been hoping to salvage something from the other vehicle- distracted him enough that Nick was able to wrap his feet around the egg shaped mechanic and spill them both from the ATV's chair. Unfortunately for Nick, however, he was under the mechanic when they hit the ground, and the Doctor's full armoured weight drove the breath from his lungs. Rolling, Robotnik came up with a handgun, to find Chas seated on his ATV and Trudy pressing something hard, cold, and round into the back of his neck.

"Hahaha...that was good. Very good indeed. Tell me...are you a Contestant, or an Enforcer?"

"Neither." Chas replied, trying to appear confident. Robotnik's eyebrows arched.

"Oh? A minion, then? Of whom? Our executioner friend over there?"

"We're BORED general staff."

"Oh really...are you allowed to kill participants, then? It's not quite as spectator oriented as individual confrontations, you know."

_Damn. He's got us._

"Well, if it's you or me, I know what I'll do."

"I see." Robotnik's voice lost its benevolent edge. "However, I also see that if I fire this handgun at the main fuel vent of that ATV, you'll go up like a torch, and your dear friend here won't be quick enough to save you." He sounded as though he was lying, but then, Robotnik always did. "So...leave now –afoot- and perhaps we can all walk away."

Chas hesitated, but Trudy knew Contestants were never, _ever_ killed by random lackeys.

"Let's go, Chas." Slowly, keeping her gun trained, Trudy backed away, and Chas decided he didn't want to be left behind. Jasper had taken a bullet in the knee, but with the others supporting him he could travel. When Nick woke up a short while later, he followed along, and even Number 457 was eventually able to crawl away. Only then did Robotnik allow himself to breathe. A standard model ATV was not a Death Star –no single weak point could make them explode. He _could_ have tried to ignite the ejector seat, but that would've been tricky at best. No, he'd come out of that quite well, and with more than he'd hoped for. The patrol's ATV was in pieces, with nothing worth salvaging, but the Klokateer had left his rifle behind. Robotnok had always viewed mere projectile weapons as being beneath him, but even he could see that it was a beautiful model, with a decent sized magazine and a far faster firing rate than his own. He also had another revolver, dropped by one of the Patriots. Just as he was about to leave, he spotted another mysterious item, lying in the grass behind Chas' tree, a bloodstain marring the shiny greyness of an abandoned gas mask.

Robotnik stroked his moustache "Interesting...Very interesting indeed...Love polluted air though I do, I think I may yet find some use for you..."

_Some time later..._

It was a battered, bedraggled, and angry mechanical genius who eventually approached the outpost he'd won. His 'tyre tracks' plan had fallen to pieces with his battle, and there seemed to be quite a few patrols in the area. Not wishing to encounter another enforcer, Robotnik had taken an elaborate and evasive route, resulting in him losing track of where he actually was, and he'd only managed to find his way back by navigating towards the huge flooded area in the island's northern arm and working from there. The terrain was sodden and dangerous along that route, however, and he'd had to take great care not to end up burying his transport in muck. His cape was even more tattered and dirty than it had been previously. At least carapace armour didn't corrode.

When the man dropped down from the outpost roof as Robotnik approached the door, the doctor surprised himself with his alertness, handgun barrel touching his ambusher's chest as strong fingers closed on Robotnik's own throat. The two smiled at each other, appreciative.

"Hello. I was wondering why no one answered my knock."

"Hello. Contestant or Enforcer?"

"Contestant. Midou Ban, Genius of Battles and the 'B' of the Getbackers. You must be an Enforcer, since you have the wheels?"

"No, I won them. Dr. Julian Ivo Robotnik, mechanical genius and ruler of Robotropolis."

The genii assessed each other. Robotnik didn't look like a born warrior, but he had moved with surprising quickness, and the fact that he'd brought down an Enforcer meant he was at least competent, not a Contestant to be taken lightly. Ban, similarly, did not appear intimidating, but he had a confidence to his manner that implied he was no easy meat either. Also, he was not visibly armed, which in itself was worrying. It suggested he had some surprising ability, something unexpected to turn the tables.

It had to be said that this was not the main reason behind Robotnik's decision. Ban was not even carrying so much as a penknife, and as such, Robotnik would gain nothing from fighting him, even in victory, and he might well be injured or lose his tools.

Ban was coming to a similar, but not identical, conclusion. Although he had a great deal more to gain that his opponent, he currently had a gun pointed directly at his heart, and while he could use the Jagan, he wasn't certain Robotnik wouldn't get a chance to fire in the instant before it took effect.

Robotnik knew Ban probably wouldn't leave empty handed. He himself had been willing to fight for his right to this outpost not long ago, and he wasn't about to give it up. Ban appeared not to need weapons, but...

"We don't need to fight. Leave now, and I'll grant you your life."

"Why should I believe you?"

"I have nothing to gain by defeating you."

"So...what do I gain by walking away?"

Fishing in his pocket, keeping his other hand on the trigger Robotnik withdrew the keys to Shadow's ATV and handed them across, thereby occupying one of Ban's hands.

"It's the black one. Of course you _could_ attempt to kill me now...but why risk dying for a building when you can simply walk away with a genuine gain, with no danger to yourself?"

Ban considered. He had no particular enmity for this Doctor, and an ATV would be welcome after all the walking he'd been doing. If nothing else, he could sleep under it at night. But...

"How do I know you won't shoot me as soon as I turn my back?"

Robotnik attempted to spread his arms while maintaining his aim. "What if I miss? You'll turn on me, and suddenly my life, instead of merely my ATV, is at risk."

Ban nodded, accepting the logic of that, and backed off a step, ready to unleash the Jagan at any sign of Robotnik tightening his finger on the trigger. The process of backing away continued for some time, after which point, the Getbacker leapt into his new ATV and roared away into the trees. Robotnik hesitated an instant, before turning away. He wasn't pleased with his deal, but nor was he displeased. His impromptu gift had not entirely been an altruistic move. Fostering some goodwill did him little harm, and any opponent in an ATV was far easier to overcome for a mechanic of his calibre. And, this way, if he lost a future battle, he'd know where to find a replacement.

...He'd miss the machinegun, though.

A metallic squawk caught his attention as he tried re enter his outpost. Looking up, he found a familiar metallic bird staring back at him. Klunk was in terrible shape, one of his wing joints almost entirely rusted through, but he'd finally managed to find his master. Smiling, Robotnik retrieved the bird and brought him inside for some much needed maintenance. He was exhausted, battered, and bruised, but this was turning out to be a quite good day.

And in what was possibly the first time in literary history, an offer of 'leave now, and I'll grant you your life' was actually accepted.


	6. Round 3: Robotnik v Starkiller

_So, here's round...Well, 3, 4, or 5, depending on your point of view. Robotnik fought one battle before I took him on, and with the concession, things get a little tricky. Oh well. Anyway, this one's against Lord Gambit508's Starkiller, owned presumably by Lucasarts. Usual thanks to judges Khellan Rafe, Movie Brat, and Avatar._

**Round...I'm going to say 3. Robotnik v Starkiller**

Robotnik's recovering confidence had taken another dent at how close Ban had come to defeating him, made worse as the tournament organisers decided to curtail some of his privileges. Upon realising a Contestant had access to the island's indigenous radio station, the broadcaster had become cagey regarding information on the tournament's progress, denying the mechanic one of his major advantages. After his encounter had deprived him of another, Robotnik decided to stay at home and refine his outpost defences. Thus it was that Galen Marek, also known as Starkiller, found him.

The monsoon was over by this point, but as an island, Grand Cross was subject to occasional rain showers. As much of his arsenal was metallic and subject to corrosion, Robotnik spent little time abroad in the rain, but when one of his tripwires sang, he instantly rushed to the defence of his surviving ATV, unwilling to lose his main surviving asset. If necessary, he could flee to protect his transport. So he scrambled into the seat of the ATV and awaited the approach of his adversary.

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night. A cliché, but sometimes there is no option but to indulge in such things. As a being that had seen innumerable wonders all across the galaxy, Starkiller was not a creature given to dwelling on his surroundings. But he knew the danger inherent in large quantities of water for his lightsabres. He'd survived the monsoon by seeking shelter, but this relatively small rainstorm had come upon him unawares, and he desperately needed to find some more adequate means of keeping his weapons as dry as possible. His encounter with ...Roxas?... had convinced him that the other Contestants were not beings to be trifled with, and the last thing he needed was to for the blade to fail to ignite at a critical moment. So he'd left his camp in the seared clean area of the island to search for a more adequate refuge.

The first thing Robotnik saw of his opponent was what appeared to be a pillar of ethereal blue light weaving its way amongst the trees. Starkiller, blade ignited to light his path, was shrouded in a column of steam as raindrops flashed to vapour on contact with his weapon. The robed figure emerging from the fog struck real terror in the mechanic for a moment, and he almost fled. Then his eyebeams managed to pierce the fog, and discerning the true nature of his adversary and the weapon he was carrying. And Robotnik, along with tens of millions of watchers through nearby cameras, shared a thought common to all sentient life forms throughout the universe on their first experience of the Jedi/Sith signature weapon: _I have got to get me one of those!_

Briefly unsettled by the aura of total greed emanating from the man in front of him, Starkiller came to a halt. It had probably been too much to hope for that the strange metallic structure would be unoccupied, but he needed shelter. He deactivated his sabre and held up his hands, palms out, a gesture universally associated with surrender but one never to be taken lightly among Force wielders.

"I come in peace, I seek only shelter."

The lustful smile of the armoured, spherical man before him was disconcerting, the more so when he realised it was directed only at his weapon.

"Very well...on condition you surrender to me that curious blade of yours."

No stranger to weapons based around focused beams of light, Robotnik had never seen anything quite like the contraption the man before him held. He had utilised laser beams in his time, but he had believed it an elementary principle of physics that without some form of receptor, any given beam of light would continue travelling in the same direction until it hit an obstacle. He'd written theses on that very subject. He couldn't imagine the kind of construction involved in making a laser beam simply _stop _in midair. If he could get his hands on the machine, technology in Robotropolis would be revolutionised! There was no possibility he could allow such a fascinating instrument to slip through his grasp. Genius though he was, Robotnik was first an engineer, and now that he had seen the lightsabre, he would add it to his arsenal or die trying.

However, Starkiller, naturally, was disinclined to part with one of his only weapons, putting an end to any possible peaceful resolution of the encounter.

"That I cannot do."

Robotnik's smile didn't waver. "Then die." He fired one of his rifles, but Starkiller instantly reignited his weapon, and the pellet flashed to molten metal on contact. Kneeling to examine the small puddle in front of him, Starkiller could only burst out laughing at the sight before him.

"_Projectile?_ You're still using _projectile _weapons?" Robotnik couldn't help but feel inadequate at the tone, and didn't reply. The trouble was, he shared the opinion of his adversary, who was still shaking his head in raw amusement.

"...I can't remember the last time I saw one of these...even Ewoks use blasters nowadays...how primitive."

"I quite agree," Robotnik noted, still insulted but warming to the other man slightly. They shared a common belief, at least. His soon to be opponent looked up.

"I need to keep my sabre dry, I'm afraid. And you're in my path."

"You think you can defeat me? What's your name, boy?" Robotnik was back on familiar territory here. This was the standard 'pre-battle banter'. He could recite it in his sleep.

The robed creature swiped air with his pillar of blue light. It buzzed. Robotnik was briefly distracted.

_How does light make noise? It doesn't have enough mass. Must be the generator straining as it meets resistance. Still...light, resisted? Perhaps it's plasma suspended in a magnetic field. Hmm...that means if I can get some strong magnets near him, he'll spill superheated plasma all over himself. All I need to do is create a magnetic field out of wood and pieces of monster. But...would suspended plasma be able to cut anything? I'll need to have the thing to hand to learn more._

It dawned on him that the sabre wielder had replied to his query, and he frantically tried to remember the response, resolving not to attempt to remodel his opponents' weapons mid combat in future. Casting his mind, back, he recovered the words.

"Galen Marek, also known as Starkiller."

"...Well, my dear Supernova, you stand before the great Doctor Julian Ivo Robotnik. While I too have an alias, I find it rather embarrassing, so if we have dispensed with the formalities adequately by this point...I mean to have your weapon, and will leave carrying it or not at all."

Starkiller bowed, and buzzed his blade to battle position. "Understood." His doctorate holding friend was gazing at him with obvious intelligence, but the type of fanatical conviction he associated with the Emperor's Hands. He would not back away, not with that light in his eyes. Unlike the Imperial Elites, however, Robotnik didn't seem to be a born warrior. The combination was likely to get him killed, and Starkiller had no desire to draw out his opponent's pain. Buzzing the lightsabre to one side, Starkiller allowed lightning to burst from his palms. Robotnik didn't even have time to spin his chair, throwing his arms out in futile reflex. A huge column of steam arose as the Force lightning boiled raindrops between Force wielder and mechanic, obscuring them from each other's vision. But Starkiller knew he hadn't missed, and the damp environment would make his technique all the more potent for its victim. He intensified the lightning's power, and more steam rose. Even some of BORED's nearby camera lenses fogged up. One, floating above the canopy, crashed into a tree and dropped like a stone. An errant strand of electricity sparked flames among the fallen leaves, adding smoke to the air despite the rain, but the blaze was shortlived. Starkiller counted to the Kashykk equivalent of ten, before letting his lightning die. Encased in metal as he was, Robotnik would at the very least be incapacitated by lightning of that intensity. Standing perfectly still, the force wielder waited for the vapour to clear. Shortly, he saw the shape of the ATV his opponent had been sitting on become clearer through the haze, along with two ominous red dots.

He heard the bang before he saw the flash, which almost always means it's too late to react. But, in a sense, he'd been lucky -Robotnik, unable to see his opponent, had aimed slightly to one side of the glow of the lightsabre, and grazed Starkiller's upper left arm. Leaping to one side, a trail of fresh steam from falling raindrops following him, Starkiller blocked the next bullet, and the next, telekinetically throwing fallen tree branches at Robotnik's glowing eyes. They realised at the same moment what their counterpart was aiming at, and Robotnik closed his eyes as Starkiller deactivated his blade. This brought its own disadvantages. Now Robotnik couldn't see, while Starkiller couldn't block any attacks that came his way. However, Starkiller had undergone training exercises in fighting blind, and he knew how to be silent. Stepping confidently through the steam, he closed in on his opponent's back, before igniting his weapon behind the hulking shape of the ATV. The lightsabre, however, was not a weapon designed for stealth, and upon hearing the buzz of the ignition Robotnik instantly spun his chair to face it. Unprepared for that feature of the ATV, Starkiller hesitated before lunging, giving Robotnik time to hurl himself blindly aside. Starkiller's plasma blade sheared the chair back completely in half, before its tip reached and ignited the explosive powder which was intended to serve as the motive force of an ejector seat. The remains of Robotnik's carefully constructed throne brought Starkiller with it as it was blasted upwards and forwards, before crushing him against the ground. Winded, he telekinetically tossed the chair aside and rolled upright, before realising he'd lost his lightsabre with the impact.

Despite being a powerful and in general outrageously cool weapon, the lightsabre favoured by the Jedi/Sith did have flaws in its concept. Aside from the previously mentioned lack of compatibility with large quantities of water, a vital safety feature in the weapon design was that unless it was specifically switched to a particular setting, once pressure was removed from the hilt, the blade would deactivate. This was a vitally important precaution which prevented Padwans dropping it in training and accidentally cutting their own legs off, something not even Darth Sidious was eager to see widespread among his apprentices. However, just as the blade's hum had betrayed Starkiller's stealth, this safety feature betrayed him now. He could summon his sabre to his hand instantly, provided he knew where it was, but with the blade now deactivated, the dull grey cylinder was not easily espied among the fallen leaves. Robotnik was also picking himself up nearby, preventing a prolonged search. He had another sabre, but perhaps it was best not to let the Doctor become aware of it, given his covetous attitude to the first. Starkiller could finish this conflict bare handed. A creature with his talents at force manipulation was seldom defenceless. But he knew arrogance had defeated more resilient creatures than he.

Robotnik himself had lost his rifles in his reckless leap to safety, but he still carried two handguns, a dagger, and five grenades he wouldn't allow himself to use unless he knew the blast radius was nowhere near the disappeared lightsabre. He _wanted _that weapon. His normally calculating manner had been dissolved by sheer desire, an almost childlike craving for a new toy.

The force wielder and the mechanic glanced at each other. Starkiller was puzzled that his adversary was still alive and fighting, but not unduly worried. He'd fought more durable creatures than the one before him now using only his innate abilities, and prevailed. Watching his adversary's hands, uncertain of the capabilities of those antiquated projectile based weapons, he decided to give his opponent one last chance.

"Stand back, relinquish your weapons, and I may let you leave with your life."

Robotnik cocked his head. "Has anyone else you've met in this tournament accepted that offer?"

"...No," Starkiller admitted.

"And...You would be most likely secretly disappointed if I did, am I correct?" Starkiller tried to deny this to himself –that was the Dark Side of his mind speaking-, but he realised there was a grain of truth in the Doctor's words. He nodded mutely.

"Well, I wouldn't wish to disappoint one such as you..." Their right arms rose in the same instant. Robotnik's bullet met the Force lightning in midair, before passing through and nicking the heel of Starkiller's outstretched right hand. It stung, but wasn't enough. The lightning travelled on and met Robotnik's own raised fist. The handgun dropped to the ground, but Robotnik didn't scream or writhe, holding his ground with his gauntlet sparkling with lightning. Starkiller hesitated an instant, surprised at his adversary's lack of reaction, and increased the lightning's intensity. Sweat became visible on Robotnik'd forehead, but he didn't falter. Eventually, Starkiller realised the futility of his actions and let his lightning die.

_How..._

A powerful Jedi could deflect force lightning, and it was rumoured that certain Masters could absorb it with no ill effects, but for the uninitiated, the technique was close to impossible to utilise. A concentrated, intense blast of Force lightning had been known to make certain lifeforms explode, but this creature, this _metal armoured_ creature, had simply shrugged it off.

Robotnik kept his face impassive as he caught his breath. The lightning technique had caught him by surprise, but like any mechanic worth the name, he had ensured his suit was insulated against electrical currents. A sustained burst would leave his gauntlet uncomfortably warm, but it wouldn't shock him.

Mechanic and Sith apprentice stared at each other. Robotnik wondered if he could crouch to retrieve his fallen gun without being obliterated. Deciding not to risk it, he fired his remaining handgun. He was no more than thirty feet away, and Starkiller didn't quite have time to draw his remaining lightsabre. Instead, soil fountained up in front of him to take the impact. Starkiller smiled in satisfaction. A blaster shot would not be parried quite so easily. He threw up more soil, blocking every strike, and began throwing fist sized soil projectiles at his opponent. The first hit Robotnik in the chest, staggering him, and Starkiller began walking forward, not moving with any great urgency. Keeping Robotnik off balance with soil projectiles, Starkiller advanced with a measured step, soil fountaining upward in front of him when Robotnik managed to squeeze off a round.

Moving backwards, flailing wildly, Robotnik suddenly realised he had clicked empty. A chunk of gravel hit him in the face, and he toppled backwards. Rising, he turned and fled to his ATV, telekinetically thrown sand rebounding from his backplate. The ATV was temporarily out of commission, but Robotnik snatched up his shield and blocked the next projectile that came his way. Scanning the ground for his rifles, he found instead Starkiller's fallen lightsabre and ignited it. At the familiar sound, Starkiller momentarily stopped throwing sand. He knelt and picked up Robotnik's dropped handgun.

"So...here we are, fighting each other with weapons we don't know how to use. Your primitive projectile launcher versus my lightsabre. Or have you used one before?"

_So...it's called a lightsabre...how fitting. _"I haven't had any formal training with bladed weapons, true, but thus far in the tournament, I've found that following the 'insert pointy end into opponent' principle reaps rewards."

Starkiller smiled "That may serve you with mere metal, but that sabre is an entirely different matter." He fired the handgun he was holding, but he wasn't practiced at compensating for recoil, and the bullet sparked harmlessly off Robotnik's shoulderplate. Shrugging, he threw up more sand and began to run. This time Robotnik hurled a grenade which blasted apart Starkiller's soil shield, but the former Sith apprentice kept running, launching more soil projectiles en route. One struck Robtnik's arm as he was trying to reload his empty handgun, and he dropped the lightsabre. Naturally, Starkiller instantly summoned it to his hand, dropping his own borrowed handgun. Robotnik, his handgun now reloaded, opened fire. Galen Marek could have deflected lasers, but mere bullets were slightly less predictable, and once the first bullet entered his shoulder, three more followed. However, by this stage, he'd almost reached the mechanic, and swung even as he fell. Robotnik felt the very tip of the lightsabre sear the skin from the end of his nose, but Starkiller's hand opened at that instant and the blade died. Before the force wielder could rise, Robotnik was behind him, handgun barrel pressed into the back of his head.

"I'm sorry", the mechanic noted, surprisingly with genuine remorse in his tone "but you're too dangerous to let walk away." That said, Robotnik suddenly realised that he had just fired his handgun empty to stay off the Force wielder's advance. He had no ammunition left to make the kill. He hit the apprentice several times in the back of the head with the handgun instead, and retrieved the lightsabre. Starkiller, a resilient creature, was on his feet instantly.

Robotnik hesitated.

"We don't need to fight. I've gotten what I wanted."

Starkiller looked at him. "I haven't." He dipped for his second lightsabre, faster than sight, and pressed the ignition. The blade sparked, but didn't ignite – being knocked to the damp ground had been enough to temporarily disable it.

Mechanic and force wielder stared at each other, assessing. Robotnik would have quite liked another sabre, but Galen's telekinesis had proven he was a formidable opponent unarmed. Galen would've liked his lightsabre back, but with his force lightning ability rendered useless, he didn't relish the idea of fighting barehanded, now that Robotnik had showed his competence. His need for shelter was gone, with his blade already failed, and he could dry it out once the rain passed. His adversary was clearly adequately armed, and there was no need to court conflict. He could come back for his weapon when the climate was more favourable.

Robotnik sighed "I fear this is a battle for another day."

Starkiller nodded slightly and backed into the trees. As he was on the edge of vision, the mechanic suddenly called after him "If you want to replace your blade, my radio tells me a man wielding something similar has recently died. I suggest going to find him."

Turning away, Robotnik sealed the door of his outpost, examining the cylinder he was holding.

_Well, well, well. A lightsabre of my very own. I shall have a lot of fun with this._

And, ignoring Klunk, who was lying dismantled on a table inside, Robtnik began to play with his new toy.


	7. New Developments

_This chapter is a reaction from Robotnik to recent events in the closing stages of the tournament. For details, see the fourth chapter of A Winner is Two: A Survivalist is You! on Avatar jk137's profile, a link to which can be found on the reviews page._

**New Developments**

The lightsabre , as it turned out, was incredibly useful, but far too dangerous to use as a consistently as a weapon. The only thing it had any real difficulty cutting was the walls of the outpost, and even then, it only met limited resistance. It made a powerful cutting tool, but a single mistake in battle would undoubtedly be costly. The thing tended to twist in its wielder's grip as it met resistance, necessitating that it be held tightly at all times, potentially sacrificing control. Nonetheless, Robotnik had to concede that he was in love with the thing.

Upon dismantling, he had found that the construction of the tool was deceptively simple, little more than a power cell, crystals reminiscent of Shadow's Chaos Emeralds, and a series of focusing lenses and energizers, which somehow converted the energy to the plasma which formed the blade. It irked him that although he instantly realised _how _it worked, he still had no idea _why_ it worked. By all logic, it shouldn't have existed. But then, logic, he had discovered, was a secondary consideration on this island.

After he was sure Starkiller had truly departed, Robotnik had returned outside and found two red crystals lying on the ground where Galen Marek had fallen. Apparently, the man had been carrying spares. Robotnik would ensure they were not wasted.

With crystals in hand, he was able to replicate the lightsabre's construction quite easily for the most part. It was intended to be challenging, but the sabre's creator was no match for his genius. Using one red crystal each, he set his new creations into the backs of his steel gauntlets. Power sources were easily obtained from the outpost's supplies of batteries, although he did need to enhance them to provide more longevity. The one thing he couldn't do was create a powerful enough magnetic field to contain the plasma once released. Without industrial materials, that was impossible even for him. Thus, his new duplicates had no actual 'blade' as such, but instead released controlled bursts of superheated plasma, much like the laser pistol Raidou had shredded. As they weren't actually beams of light, they could not be deflected by a mere mirror like most lasers. And he hadn't even needed to alter the original looted blade.

With his new cutting tool, the limits of what he could make were pushed back. Using material from the walls, he replaced Klunk's armour, which was horrifically rusted from the rains, and returned his own ankle rockets to working order for the first time since Raidou.

In his battle with Starkiller, the Force Wielder had caused a camera to fall out of the sky. Robotnik was quick to take advantage of the opportunity this provided. The machine, mounted on some kind of geothermal glider, was perfect for the mechanic's purposes. He risked ambush and irking the tournament organisers in order to go hunting and shoot down more. Once achieved, he replaced the armoured swivel chair Starkiller had cut in half, but with the camera gliders tucked beneath it. Now, if he found an approach by land impossible, he could take to the air. The idea alone brought a smile to his face, less for the idea of flying than the quality of his work.

A machine with multiple stages of battle, a spinning chair, explosives, guns, and now lasers (technically, they were focused plasma beams, but most wouldn't be able to tell the difference, especially if they were hit.) Not to mention a lightsabre and all the gear he'd plundered from Ginger. If he didn't have enough equipment now, he never would. According to his radio, there were now twelve surviving contestants left of the original twenty nine, but many of them were inactive, sitting tight and waiting for the odds to be cut down. They would be unlikely to trouble him, but it was not beyond the realms of possibility. Starkiller had briefly attempted that approach until the rainshower had driven him to Robotnik. Unless he drove into their arms, he would likely be safe.

Among Robotnik's flaws was that he tended to focus on his projects exclusively, to the exclusion of most surrounding stimuli. But when he returned to reality, he picked things up quickly. Glancing skyward, he instantly realised that the shield was down. His knowledge clearly wasn't quite up to date. He flicked on the radio.

"_...in a little trouble back here. Production has been scaled back for the moment, though we'll try to do what we can. Most of my usual staff are gone to assist with the escape_, so I'm all _on my own. I remind any Contestants not to panic, the Enforcers have been recalled to base, but they will be back soon, I promise. In the meantime, here's a little tune to remind you why you're here._

"_I'm gonna fight em all!_

_Seven nation army couldn't..."_

* * *

Trudy sprinted through the base, dodging around Klokateers and her own companions. The Chocolate was causing chaos, but thus far they'd been able to contain him. Stocks of liquid nitrogen and flamethrowers had been broken out among the staff, albeit sparingly, and they were proving moderately effective, giving DbC reason for caution. The executives were safe at present. Beyond that, Trudy should've had few concerns, but she wasn't quite at peace. Ducking one of Sakyo's demons running in the opposite direction, she finally reached her destination, the radio tower. A Klokateer was staying at his post like the crew manning the pumps in the Titanic, forfeiting any chance at his own escape in order to provide an overall picture of what was happening in the base to those inside, and a completely different one to the Contestants at large. She had no hesitation in dropping him from behind with a chair, and bent over the console.

* * *

"_I'm gonna−_

"_Dr. Ivo Robotnik, are you there? I can see you're listening, we've got you on camera. Listen, you spared me and the gang when we met you, which is more than any other contestant did, and definitely more than any of our bosses have ever done. So listen up. _

"_You need to get off this island now! We've got us a rogue demon back here, and the staff are bailing out. Once we're clear, this place is nuked, so leave now, any way you can. Stay hidden, and you won't survive, understand? You need to leave. The tournaments fucked, placing is irrelevant at this stage. Good luck. Now we're even."_

"Thank you."

"_Don't mention it. This isn't a reusable lifeline, bud, you want more help, you're gonna have to spare my life again. Better yet, save it. Now I have to get moving, and so do you."_

Robotnik switched off the radio.

"Klunk, it's time to move." He ignited his newly won lightsabre. "Outpost, you served me well. Goodbye." Bringing the blade to bear on the walls, he began carving.

**Julian Ivo Robotnik Eram Hic.**

**One Defeat, Three Victories, and a Stalemate**

**A Survivalist Is You**

He'd fought his battles for, in, and around the outpost, and he didn't know how long he'd last away from it. A monument was in order, in case he died on his way. It was a jungle out there, full of desperate Contestants. Those who had radios would've heard the announcement, and as a Keycard holder, he'd be a target.

"...Let's go."

* * *

**Author's note: I'm not quite bowing out yet, folks. The first line of the monument is Latin for 'Robotnik was here' Thanks to Gambit for correcting a mistake**


	8. Round 4: Robotnik v Midou Ban

Still alive. This one's against Khellan Rafe's Midou Ban. Yes, that's the same person I conceded a match to and was spared by. So, in a burst of chivalry, I decided to attack them. Judges Jjp55 and Kohaku Kawa. Note: Ban and Robotnik have already met at the end of chapter 5, but both of them walked away...that time.

**Round 4: Robotnik v Midou Ban (The Getbackers)**

Midou Ban, as a rule, was not ordinarily a pessimist, but he couldn't help feeling that his last battle had been a little disheartening. What with losing his ATV, breaking his arm, and not least, his glasses, he was a little upset. His main attacking hand was now useless, and actually had become a liability. A sleeve torn from his shirt was acting as a sling, but he didn't really have the necessary medical supplies to aid proper healing. He'd need to find some proper gear, or even a white mage, to ensure his arm healed correctly.

He knew what he'd have to do. The other Contestants would undoubtedly not have medical supplies to hand, so that'd mean he'd need to take down an Enforcer. His first encounter had not gone well, but he knew the Enforcers were not immortal. It was unlikely that they would be easy prey, especially one handed, but he had no choice.

Even finding one of the BORED employees was not all that easily done. He eventually came across an empty treehouse, blasted apart and abandoned, along with a pit trap and a pair of mangled, rapidly deteriorating corpses. He briefly searched for the Keycard, but unsurprisingly found only nasty traps that would have severely inconvenienced anyone who wasn't a Genius of Battle.

Searching, however, he did find one thing. A battered, bloodstained golf club, slightly rusted but still serviceable. He snapped several feet off the end and used it to splint his arm, and was about to toss the rest aside when he hesitated. He was much more dangerous unarmed, but a weapon did have the virtue of being a silent kill. He needed eye contact for the Jagan, and the shriek of 'Snake Kill' tended to give an adversary an instant to react. The club might well be his only opportunity of ending a conflict quickly. Although it apparently hadn't served its original owner. And now he knew who one of the corpses was.

_Sorry. Guess you didn't last long without your friend. _

He might have buried them, but having only one useful arm would have made the task long and arduous, and left him vulnerable. He tipped Gig's friend into the pit trap, and then brought down a tree on top of it with Snake Kill, but subsequently left the scene behind. He found it unlikely that Gig's friend (had he given a name?) would use a kunai with such precision, meaning that the Enforcer was still around. And Ban had just seen a ringing endorsement of his/her talents. It wouldn't be wise to linger.

So...he'd come across another Enforcer's handiwork. Like Smoker, the new one was apparently very competent, but without other man's redeeming quality of mercy. Statistically speaking, it wasn't encouraging. From what he'd seen, the Enforcers were highly proficient fighters. That said, Robotnik had somehow managed to beat one. Maybe he'd just been lucky. He was quick, true, but that hint of panic in his eyes before the gun hand came up wasn't the attitude of a fighter. He would not be quite as seasoned as Enforcers hired for their talents in battle, and even if his outpost had no readily available supplies, his keycard would provide access to them. Better, Ban knew exactly where to find him, which wasn't the case for any Enforcer but Smoker. He'd need to find Robotnik. Not an ideal scenario, but his options were limited.

* * *

Robotnik's speed of travel was slow, but he was, possibly for the first time since Raidou, not unduly worried. With his lightsabre, gauntlet lasers, and ankle rockets now restored, he felt he had the firepower to deal with any adversary. The newly restored Klunk was in the trees, and would warn him if any such adversary approached. His most pressing concern was actually the landscape, fearing his ATV would become mired in the mud still lingering after the rains. Hence he proved surprised when Midou Ban stepped into his vision with absolutely no warning. Cursing his pet, the mechanic straightened.

"Hello again, Doctor."

Time had not been kind to the Genius of Battles. His shirt was now a tattered mess, missing one sleeve entirely, while his right arm was splinted to his chest, and his left was twirling the bottom half of a rusted golf club. Robotnik arched an eyebrow.

"Where's your transport?"

Ban grimaced. "I...lost it."

"My, my...looted. How embarrassing for you. Well, this time, I do not come bearing gifts ... Ban, was it? My generosity has been sadly exhausted, and as such, I suggest you−"

The mechanic stopped.

"May I ask a favour?"

"Go on."

"Could you cut yourself for me? Somewhere I can see it."

"What?"

"Bleed, if you please. I defeated a morpher who bled green. Forgive my presumption."

Ban shrugged, then winced "Sorry, Doctor, but for some reason, I don't like to bleed on request. If you think I'm not me, that's your problem."

"So be it. Tell me, then, why are you here?"

Ban locked eyes with the doctor, and took a step closer. He'd only have sixty seconds; he needed to close in, take the keycard, and be gone in that time. He didn't particularly want to hurt Robotnik, who had not acted like a killer in their last encounter. Still, if it came to a choice, he knew what he'd do. The Doctor had some impressive gear, and the Jagan couldn't stop a bullet after it was fired.

"You got any medical supplies to spare?" He wouldn't trust any freely given. The ATV had been a reluctant concession given to a man with fingers clasped around his throat. In a survival tournament, handouts would always be suspect. But he needed a reason not to be immediately shot.

"You already have a splint and sling. I can't offer much more. However, my supplies are back in the outpost, and I will neither surrender my keycard nor bring you back to retrieve them. I'm not travelling back that way, so following me will be futile."

Ban blinked, losing eye contact. "Oh? Absconding, Doctor? Why?"

"The barrier is down. I can't leave this island on an ATV. Who knows how far we are from land? I need to find transport in the fortress. Less competition for you. Now, Ban, if that is in fact who you are...leave or die. I will not risk trickery." Robotnik backed up the ATV, glancing down in concentration. The Getbacker began to believe he'd made a serious mistake in approaching so openly. But he was lucky. Robotnik triggered the ATV's grenade launcher instead of simply bringing the rifles to bear. Ban batted the explosive up into the trees with his golf club, showering mechanic and Getbacker with shards of branches, but doing no serious harm to either of them. Aware that stealth was no longer an option. Ban abandoned the club and leapt. Robotnik backed off the ATV, rifles in hand, raising dust in the Getbacker's wake. The mechanic knew from experience he had a bad habit of backing into trees, but he couldn't spare the concentration, busy failing to track Ban with his weapons. The Genius of Battles was moving so quickly he was almost teleporting, but somehow the rifle shots were keeping him at bay. Ban did close via an elaborate, occasionally somersaulting route, but, having dodged bullets, inexplicably met Robotnik's fist coming the other way, knocking him a good three feet backwards. His grenade launcher couldn't be reloaded quickly, so Robotnik blindly hurled another grenade by hand, hoping to force Ban back while frantically reversing his own ATV out of range.

The back of the ATV hit an obstacle in the form of a tree trunk, halting his flight. Looking up, Robotnik reached for his guns.

Ban was standing a couple of feet in front of him, Robotnik's grenade clenched in his left fist, thumb preventing it from triggering. He took a step forward. Robotnik reloaded his rifles. A shrapnel gash on the Getbacker's forehead was bleeding red, making Robotnik aware that he was in fact who he said he was. He wondered if that was a comforting thought.

"Stay back!"

Ban took another step, placing a foot on the ATV'S front bumper.

"Or what, Doctor? You shoot me? And what would happen if I were to drop this? Even if you survived, your precious ATV'd be shrapnel."

Robotnik lowered his eyes in defeat.

"What do you want from me?"

"The keycard. Give it up quickly, and I'll let you walk away.

"How're you going to carry it? I doubt you'll have time to toss aside that grenade before it detonates."

"That's my problem, Doctor. Now..."

"If I give up the card, I won't leave this island alive. Anyone who doesn't leave won't survive."

"And that's encouraging me to back down?"

"As you wish. Perhaps this will change your mind." Ban was now too close to hit with the rifles, so Robotnik lunged with his gauntlet for the man's broken arm. The pained shriek was piercing enough that even Robotnik himself winced, but that didn't stop him from gunning the ATV forward as Ban fell into his arms. Tossing his opponent aside, he accelerated, but clipped another tree and the engine stuttered to a halt.

"Hey, Doc!"

Robotnik spun his chair. Ban, incredibly, was on his feet, undeniable pain on his face, but teeth now clenched with fury.

"That wasn't nice." The Getbacker raised his head, seeking eye contact, but the mechanic was still watching the grenade. "Snake kill!" The sphere in his hand suddenly disintegrated, imploding under pressure into useless shards of metal. Robotnik's mouth opened, but words failed him, and Ban smiled through his pain. "That's right, Doc. I don't die easily. Last chance."

Robotnik hesitated, genuinely afraid. "..I ...N- No. No, I can't." He spun the chair back and ignited the engine. "I won't!" The ATV's rear gun fired, forcing Ban to somersault aside – not an easy thing to do with one working hand. With the Genius of Battles now not directly in his path, Robotnik reversed his vehicle, throwing two grenades at Ban – not directly at him, as Robotnik didn't want to risk another catch, but slightly to either side, leaving him no option but to leap backwards to escape their overlapping blast radius.. Bringing his left gauntlet up, Robotnik fired a plasma bolt, melting a patch of earth by Ban's ear. When the dust cloud settled, the Genius of Battles was gone.

* * *

"Okay, Doctor," Ban muttered, running through the trees as quickly as he could manage in his current condition, "I'll concede superior firepower to you. But not defeat, not yet."

He ran on. Robotnik had rather unwisely mentioned that he was heading for the fortress, and there were limited ways he could get there. He was the kind of man who would move carefully after a scare like his encounter, so if Ban moved quickly, he'd have plenty of time to get in place.

* * *

When Klunk returned (he'd been scouting in a wide circle, and had missed the entire altercation), Robotnik let him know in no uncertain terms how he felt about being surprised. If not for the urgency of his errand, and his fear of attracting attention, the lecture could have lasted for days. Travelling more slowly now, rifles at the ready, the mechanic moved on with Klunk circling closer to hand. He wouldn't be caught off guard again. The only benefit the encounter had provided was Ban's dropped golf club. Although Robotnik certainly didn't need it, the habit of looting his opponents was too strong to disregard.

* * *

Robotnik moved even more slowly than Ban had anticipated. The Getbacker chose his point of battle quickly, expecting the doctor on his heels, but he ended up waiting close to two hours. In the meantime, he checked on his arm. Smoker had broken it relatively cleanly, but Robotnik's fist had splintered the bone at the point of the break, doubling healing time and leaving him worried for his future. Even if he managed to leave the island, fighting Akabane or someone else with comparable power would be distinctly more challenging with his right arm weakened. He could no longer afford to take chances. He had to take down his opponent quickly and cleanly, no elaborate tricks or dialogue. Eventually, an engine was heard in the distance.

He hid behind a tree, waiting for the ATV to move closer. When it was almost on top of him, he whispered "Snake Kill!" and dug his hand into the bark. It offered more resistance than he was expecting, but couldn't realistically stand against his power. The trunk broke at the point of impact and toppled forward, dragging another tree down with it. This was an unexpected bonus, as Robotnik's ATV was now hemmed in on two sides. However, the Doctor had had the reflexes to reverse out from directly under the pillars of wood as they fell, and managed not to have his vehicle caught underneath. As the shards of wood settled, the mechanic reached for his guns.

"I know you're there, Midou Ban." Behind the fallen wood, the Getbacker cursed.

"Good guess, Doctor. But do you know exactly where I am?"

"I do now." _Why did you speak? _

"Yeah? Well then, Doc, I guess you've got to come and get me." _Why are you talking? You'll just give away your position. _Robotnik fired a plasma bolt, punching a fist sized crater in Ban's wooden barrier.

"Nice lightshow, Doc. Guess I can't really compete. How about a staring contest instead?" And, as Robotnik was frozen in shock at the sheer ludicrousness of the suggestion, Midou Ban stepped out from behind his barrier. Apparently, he'd taken his suggestion seriously, and their eyes locked a moment. Then Robotnik recovered himself, and pulled the triggers on both his rifles.

_Cliclick. _Double misfire. Now, one might have been coincidence, but two, right at this moment? Unlikely. He hesitated in the face of Ban's advance, as the Genius of Battles strolled up and casually kicked him out of the ATV, into a previously unseen puddle nearby. Spitting mud, Robotnik rolled upright and attempted to fire his plasma bolts, but his brief immersion had shorted out the generators. The backs of his gauntlets sparked, but didn't ignite. His newly obtained lightsabre fared no better when he drew it. Dipping for a handgun, he sighted on Ban's forehead and pulled the trigger. Misfire. Gritting his teeth, he withdrew a grenade and tossed it under the ATV as Ban climbed in. A shriek of pure despair followed, as he realised that he'd end up destroying his vehicle for the pittance reward of a dead opponent.

The grenade didn't ignite, lying tauntingly in front of him, no more explosive than a rock. Ban, now seated in Robotnik's chair, smiled pityingly.

"It's just not your day, is it doctor? See you around." Starting the engine, Ban trundled away, leaving a furious mechanic dipping for another gun and sighting on the back of the Getbacker's head. He wasn't even surprised at the dull click the movement heralded. Ban didn't bother to look around, his driving gradually smoothing out as he got used to the ATV's handling. Robotnik's hands, scrabbling frantically across his body in search of a functional weapon, suddenly imparted to him that his keycard was missing. So, the weapons he had been carrying were suddenly defective, and now he had no way of retrieving more. He had nothing but his rapidly corroding armour, back to where he was pre-Mystique. What a mess.

He glanced down. Rapidly corroding armour? Carapace didn't rust. And yet, he saw the truth of it as he suddenly raised rapidly stiffening brown arms. His armour no longer consisted of much metal and even if it still had, it couldn't possibly corrode this quickly, not after one five second immersion. Something felt wrong here. He'd had Ban at his mercy, and then everything had just turned itself upside down. All his weapons, which he'd been carefully maintaining, were suddenly no more useful than sticks. And what was more, his carapace armour was somehow oxidising like sodium, locking him in place. Recovering himself, Robotnik suddenly realised he'd wasted his chance to shed his armour in his confusion. By now, his body armour had locked all his limbs in place, and he could only move his head. At least Ban was long gone.

Just as he was thinking that, half a dozen humanoid robots marched out of the trees, two of them carrying a moderately sized screen. A very familiar figure could be seen when they set it down and turned on the transmitter, an insufferable smile on his face.

"Enjoying my tournament, sir?", Snively, Robotnik's lieutenant and nephew, enquired happily. The SWATbots, being robots, showed no emotion, but Snively was clearly delighted with himself, as his uncle strove to keep his voice calm.

"Hello, Snively. _Your_ tournament?"

"But of course. Didn't you wonder why the BORED representatives chose you, a man with limited personal combat experience, to travel to a survival tournament? I organised the entire operation! And now that you're out of the picture, Robotropolis is _mine!_" Gone were all vestiges of the pandering, fearful minion. This Snively was cold, focused, and completely in control. "But I digress. Enjoyable as it was to watch you flounder around, futilely trying to compete against trained fighters, I have since tired of your antics, and It's time to tie up a loose end. Goodbye, Julian."

"Wait!", Robotnik screamed, hating the begging tone in his voice. "You've overlooked one thing, Snively. With me gone, the Resistance will move on you. Without my help, Sonic will bring the city down around your ears."

Snively quirked an eyebrow. "Au contraire, my dearest uncle." He stepped aside, revealing three plastic containment tubes behind him, containing Sonic the Hedgehog, Princess Sally Acorn, and Bunny Rabbot respectively. "With you no longer in my way, I was able to put in place counterterrorism measures of my own, and they quickly yielded results. Knothole is no longer a threat to me, and neither are you." Snively rubbed his hands together. "Did you think I would just sit back and take your abuse forever? It's been fun, sir, but I'll leave you with some of your own advice. '**Trust no one...Especially me.' **You would have done well to heed your words, but now, alas, it's too late. Swatbots, Dr. Robotnik has outlasted his usefulness. Finish him."

The screen went blank, and the SWATbots advanced on the helpless, immobilised mechanic...

* * *

Klunk watched in bemusement. Something was happening here, which he couldn't quite understand. Robotnik had had the Getbacker at his mercy, and then he'd just...stopped. Ban had just reached out and taken his guns away from him, and then his keycard. Something was wrong.

Klunk was not averse to his master suffering a little pain. In his opinion, allowing his pet to suffer through the monsoon alone deserved a little retribution. But Klunk was loyal enough not to wish Robotnik serious harm, which meant he'd have to intervene. The mechanical bird gathered himself.

* * *

Robotnik's mind raced, trying to understand what was happening to him. Snively had never been so brave, and if he'd had the resources to organise a tournament on this scale, why had he endured Robotnik's constant bullying for so long? Why attempt such an elaborate coup when a simple laser bolt to the back of the head would have served as well? What had happened to his armour? None of this made sense. Or was that denial? Perhaps he was just incapable of accepting the fact that Snively could have so easily brought his adversaries to heel. Was his incomprehension merely a by-product of jealousy?

Locked in place, Robotnik could not react as the nearest SWATbot nudged his forehead, sending him over backwards in a heavy, undignified fall. The machines charged their wrist mounted lasers.

* * *

Having disarmed Robotnik, who was now locked in the grip of what seemed to be a very unpleasant illusion, Ban had taken his keycard, and was currently debating whether to bring the ATV as well. The last one hadn't done him much good, but what he could carry was limited by his broken arm. He had almost reached a decision when Klunk's metal body struck him hard in the back of the head. However, the bird had mistimed the lunge, and didn't manage to use his talons. Nonetheless, he had enough weight that Midou Ban was knocked to his knees, looking up in time to see awareness return to Robotnik's eyes. In the instant the mechanic took to orient himself, Ban was gone, keycard in hand. Klunk took off in pursuit, leaving Robotnik to gain his bearings and trundle along behind.

Ban bolted through the forest yet again, but this time there was a crucial difference in his flight. This time, he had a keycard. He could clearly hear the engine behind him, and knew Robotnik was on his trail. He would not take the loss of his access key lightly. Ban could probably lose him in the jungle, but with that mechanical bird, he wouldn't want to risk lying low. It was time to see what BORED HQ was like. Maybe they'd have some painkillers.

* * *

Dr. Ivo Robotnik, frightened though he was, was not a man given to resignation. The keycard was his only ticket off the island, and he did not plan to simply let it escape him. As formidable as Ban was, he was suffering a serious injury and he had been doing quite a lot of running, whereas Robotnik had been travelling by vehicle. He had to be tiring, and the longer the battle lasted, the more exhausted he would become. Robotnik couldn't give him a chance to rest. He had to stay snapping at his heels.

With Klunk in the air as insurance against Ban doubling back, Robotnik moved as fast as he could, but they were travelling uphill now, and his pace was slowing. However, the bonus to this was that the trees were thinning –Ban would have less opportunity to duck and dodge.

As it happened, the mechanic caught up with the Getbacker just as he reached a set of double doors built into the side of the mountain. Robotnik's bullet sparked off the wall just as he reached it, and Ban turned to find the mechanic no more than twenty feet behind him. He exhaled.

"You just don't give up, do you?" He tucked the keycard into a surviving shirt pocket and splayed his fingers. "Bring it."

"Think, Ban. You're standing in front of a sheer cliff wall, with nothing between you and my weapons. Give back the keycard, and I'll let you walk away."

"Sorry."

Robotnik sighed. "I might have known. No one ever surrenders."

Ban shrugged, using one shoulder this time. "What were you expecting?"

And he blurred into motion. Klunk sprang to Robotnik's defence, but Ban instantly snatched him out of the air and hurled him into the cliff with all his strength. Howling with rage, Robotnik emptied his rifles, but they availed him no better than before. Ducking the gunshots, Ban ran at the ATV.

"Snake Kill!" His hand tore through the leftmost rifle without slowing down, intent on tearing out Robotnik's heart. His tolerance had finally been exhausted, and he was now aiming to kill. But the force of the strike worked against him, as the impact forcibly spun Robotnik's swivel chair. His claw clipped the mechanic's shoulder plate, punching through the carapace armour effortlessly, but only a fraction of its force actually hit the mechanic, snapping his left collar bone. Meanwhile, the armoured back of the chair struck Ban hard in his right side, eliciting a scream of pain and throwing him to one side. Recovering, Robotnik knew he wouldn't have time to reload his empty rifles, so he fired a plasma bolt, from which Ban managed to roll aside, and arose panting. Ignoring his pained shoulder, Robotnik readied himself

By this point a lesser man would have been on the ground, shrieking in blind agony, but the Genius of Battle knew he couldn't afford to falter. Teeth set in a grimace, he arose, left hand clenching and unclenching, resisting the urge to hold his right arm. Robotnik launched a grenade, but the Getbacker volleyed it right back at him, forcing the mechanic to retreat. The grenade detonated between them and before the dust had settled, Ban had landed directly in front of the ATV, his left hand coming around in a claw. Panicked, Robotnik fired a plasma bolt, impacting in the Getbacker's chest just before the claw could puncture the mechanic's skull. The bolt happened to hit the keycard in the Getbacker's breast pocket, absorbing some of the impact, but the kinetic force behind the blast still resulted in Ban being thrown hard against the cliff wall with mild plasma burns spreading across his chest. He could take an incredible degree of punishment, but the plasma bolt, on top of his previous injuries and straightforward exhaustion from extended cross country sprints, were simply too much to take. He half staggered to his feet, raised his left hand, but just couldn't keep moving and keeled over backwards. Robotnik exhaled, and finally allowed himself to hold his wounded shoulder.

"That...was close." He retrieved his keycard from the Getbacker's unconscious form, marvelling at Ban's sheer resilience. Dropping a spare handgun at his feet, he swiped the keycard through the reader and climbed into the ATV, leaving the unconscious Getbacker behind. Klunk was out of commission, the impact having been too much for him. Unsure if he could be repaired, Robotnik nonetheless tenderly gathered up the pieces before trundling into BORED HQ, his left arm now resting in the sling Ban had used.

"You almost had me, Midou Ban. But that will be the one and only chance you'll get."

In his haste to leave, he neglected to realise he had left the doors open behind him

* * *

**A/N: You didn't think I was going to kill Ban, did you? Not after previously being spared by him, that's not mannerly. So, I finally use Klunk in a battle situation and he's instantly knocked out of commission. Oh well. Best of luck to KR.**


	9. Round 5:Robotnik v Black Mamba v Shadow

_Still still alive. But that may change. Round 5's my second three way battle. Hopefully we'll all get to publish something this time. This one's against Shadow the Hedgehog (same character, different author) and the Bride (same author, different character). Regards to judges Moonshine's Guide, AngelLucifel, Khellan Rafe and Aelstla Mental._

_Point to note: Chronologically, this fight takes place before Mystique v Cho Hakkai and Raidou Kuzunoha. The reason for this will become clear._

_Rating upped for language and more graphic than usual violence. _

_Oh, and The Bride should rightfully have a lightsabre of her own, but I forgot to include it. My mistake._

**Round 5: Dr. Robotnik v Shadow the Hedgehog (Sega, Avatarjk137) v The Bride (Quentin Tarantino, Kohaku Kawa)**

Black Mamba, also known as Beatrix Kiddo, also known as The Bride, was in a reasonably good mood, all things considered. True, she had yet to find her daughter or get off the island, but with her defeat of the robed man with the strange light sword (reputedly a select group of Californian assassins had taken to the things, but she'd never before seen one), she had gained a keycard, and with it an outpost. As such, she was better rested and fed than she'd been since arriving on the island, and had regained some of the confidence she'd lost with her own blade.

The outpost she had taken for her own contained food and medical supplies, but no weapons. She was physically in good shape, but her arsenal still consisted of no more than a knife and a gun, with only a couple of clips to hand. A good assassin was used to making the best of poor resources, however, and she was tired of this island. The energy shield had dropped, and suddenly every patrol from the organisers had been cut short and converged on the stronghold. Something was happening, and Black Mamba had no intention of playing BORED's game any longer than she had to. Decision made, she moved out with the slow, resolute stride her fellow Vipers had (briefly) learned to fear.

"I'm coming, B.B."

* * *

BORED's employees were loyal, but not stupid. If he tried to cut down the people in charge, or carry away vital equipment, they would stop him, but if he left them alone, they had far more pressing things to worry about than one relatively harmless mechanic. Klokateers, Patriots and Irregulars all knew that it'd be less wasteful of increasingly valuable manpower to just leave him be and hope that the other Contestants would thin each other out. Which meant that Dr. Ivo Robotnik found his progress through the fortress mostly uncontested. Occasionally the staff would cross his path, but generally didn't give him more than a second sniff. He wasn't entirely sure why his scent was of such interest to them, but perhaps unwisely, didn't let it worry him. Unsettling as the scrutiny was, he was at this point far more concerned with his broken shoulder. Due to a continuity error on the part of the author, his left collar bone had miraculously healed itself shortly after Ban broke it, but his right one had snapped instead immediately after. This turn of events left him understandably viewing his surroundings with some suspicion. The broken bone was a painful but not actually hugely limiting injury, which was just as well as neither was it an injury which would quickly heal. While it did cause jolts of pain if he tried to let his right hand bear his weight or exert too much pressure, he could still move his arm in all directions but directly up without much difficulty. He was injured, but not helpless.

The gunshots and explosions reverberating through the building were also a concern. Something was happening, something that seemed too severe a reaction than was merited by a single rogue demon. The other Contestants were converging, and sooner or later he'd find himself engaged in a pitched battle. Best to make the most of the time he had. Mystique's gold keycard allowed him access to everywhere but the fortress' very peak, the 'Pinnacle', where the tournament supervisors resided. Just as well he had little interest in confronting them like any self righteous fool.

He had few limits on his freedom within the fortress, but the building was clearly designed to be difficult to leave. He needed to search for some kind of cargo bay, wherever the transport helicopters were stored. It would be indoors, to prevent corrosion from the gas cloud, and undoubtedly heavily guarded. Even if he won through, though, he'd still need to activate one of the freight elevators to get the vehicle outside, which his gold keycard almost certainly didn't have the authority to do. And as soon as he drew blood from a guard, the entire garrison would mark him as an enemy and attempt to hunt him down. Dr. Robotnik was no immortal demon. Best to avoid conflict until it became necessary.

Seeking to avoid attracting attention with undue noise, Robotnik neglected to turn on his radio after entering the fortress. Had he done so, he would have been aware that the route he was taking would bring him directly into the path of a certain demon.

* * *

Death by Chocolate, patron demon of same, lunged at the nearest Klokateer, and met point blank a rocket propelled explosive moving in the opposite direction. Cursing as his shredded left horn grew back, he was forced to admit to himself that the executive's lackeys were gaining his measure. Initially, he'd dealt them heavy casualties more or less at whim, but now they'd gotten as used to him as the human mind could to a shapeshifting chocolate based monster with almost infinite regenerative capabilities. While he wasn't in any way fearing for his existence, he wasn't making much progress either, as the lackeys fought with intelligence, poise and unity. Spraying the room with truffleshot, he witnessed a number of heartwarming scenes of Klokateers and Patriots putting aside rivalries to drag each other to safety.

Turning at a sound from behind, he saw that a round, heavily armoured man had just trundled into the room through a set of double doors, and, from his face, was regretting his choice of route.

_Well, I'll be blessed! You look important. Maybe I can finally get some work done._

The demon's brown body suddenly liquefied, allowing bullets from the Patriot behind to ricochet off the end of the room, but he'd been too still for too long, and three Klokateers led suicidal charges with canisters of liquid nitrogen. They were already spraying as he tried to turn, and even the one he impaled through the throat did not stop until the chocolate demon was frozen solid. Immobilised, Death could only watch as a Patriot with long red hair and unsteady hands levelled a heavy machine gun. Once the Klokateers fell back, the Patriot met Death's annoyed, vengeance promising stare, and suddenly smiled. It was the tremulous, oh-fuck-it smile of the soldier in No Man's Land, but it was there. The patriot donned a pair of sunglasses, before setting himself

"Hasta la vista, baby!" The piercer rounds punched cleanly through the frozen chocolate demon, scattering dice sized fragments of him all over the room. The Patriot closed his eyes, revelling in the genuinely pained shriek from the remnants of the demon flowing swiftly into the nearest vent.

"I've always wanted to say that."

"Childish..."

The Patriot fixed the Klokateer who'd spoken with a narrow look.

"I'm going to be dead by morning. Let me have this moment." He breathed out, before replacing the sunglasses on the corpse he'd taken them from. All five of them looked up, saw Robotnik staring at them. Weapons were raised, but no one fired. The leader's hand found his earpiece.

"Hey, boss? We stung Death, who's the next priority target? ...Ok, thanks."

He looked around at his compatriots. "Naoya. Motherfucker's gone rogue. Let's go." The lackeys filed out, although the Patriot paused on the threshold.

"Don't get too comfortable, Doctor. You're next." Then he was gone. Robotnik slowly rolled his ATV into the centre of the room, rifles poised.

So...that was the immortal demon. A brown, horned humanoid that could create weapons from its body and shift form. Not a creature to be taken lightly, but not a creature to be overly feared either. He'd fought worse. Still, such a thing would require a strategy should he meet it again.

Lost in thought, he forgot to keep moving.

* * *

Black Mamba spun behind a pillar as the Patriot opened fire. Gaining entry to the fortress had been easier than she'd hoped-a set of double doors in the side of the mountain, unguarded. BORED were far too reliant on their keycards to provide security. She was several rooms in, and only now had she encountered a lone guard. He was talented, and reasonably accurate, but too wasteful with his ammunition. As soon as she heard the clip click empty, she stepped out from behind her pillar and delivered a single clinical gunshot between his eyes. Obstacle overcome, she moved on, travelling more quickly now. Where one guard existed, more would follow.

She didn't seem to be the building's only intruder. Corpses, some charred or in pieces, littered her path, and as she ascended she came upon the site of what had been a major engagement in some kind of assembly hall. Shell casings and shards of ice were scattered across the floor, and in some places the walls were dented with ricochets, but the struggle had since moved elsewhere.

One feature of it, however, remained A heavily customised ATV, displaying a considerable arsenal, was parked in the centre of the room. Approaching from behind, she couldn't see the driver, but someone was muttering to themselves from where the seat presumably was. Black Mamba raised her knife. A direct approach from behind was probably impossible, as the back of the chair was heavily armoured, but moving to the side would risk her being caught in the driver's peripheral vision. She'd need to do something to neutralise some of the other person's advantages before she went for what would hopefully be a clean, quick kill.

Keeping out of the rear gun's line of fire, she drove her knife into the left rear tire. There was a hiss of escaping air, but that was inevitable. Readying herself, she heard the startled gasp from the driver, then unleashed one of her own as he spun to face her. She'd come to the fortress ready to fight and kill anything in her path, but...a robot egg?

* * *

Furious with himself for losing his edge, Robotnik examined his ambusher. A blonde woman dressed in what had been a bright yellow jumpsuit, now so smeared with mud, blood, and grime as to be close to unrecognisable. She had a battered, obviously _well used _knife in one hand, and a serviceable handgun in the other, each held with easy familiarity. A don't-mess-with-me stare completed the picture, enhanced by horrific scars at each corner of her mouth which stretched wide in an ugly parody of a smile.

Robotnik spoke first.

"Hello, my dear. What name do you wish to be known by?"

She hesitated. "Black Mamba." She might no longer be an assassin, but her alias was ingrained by habit. His eyes narrowed, and she revised her initial estimation of him. Despite his almost cartoonish appearance, there was intelligence there.

"Oh? And you ... spit venom, do you?" The doctor knew a name like that could be an important window into fighting style.

He raised his left gauntlet, ready to unleash a plasma bolt. He'd been too wasteful with his ammunition against Ban, and it had almost cost him. The woman before him eyed the bracer, and he reached for Starkiller's sabre with his right hand, moving as slowly as he dared to avoid irritating his shoulder.

Black Mamba's eyes widened as he ignited the blade, and Robotnik smiled inwardly. Perhaps he could end this quickly for once.

"Impressive, isn't it? Walk away now, and I'll let you leave." He was lying, of course. Neither words nor mercy had been much use in the tournament thus far. If this woman was willing to walk away, Robotnik would be perfectly willing to bury a plasma bolt in the back of her head. He wasn't surprised when her head shook, but her response did catch his attention.

"One of those things didn't do my last opponent much good. Last I saw, my knife had punched through his skull." At this Robotnik visibly recoiled, his prior poise in tatters.

_She killed Starkiller __**with a knife!?**_

She watched the shock spread across his face, and then was forced back a step by a mild explosion from his machine. His chair was thrown upwards, almost striking the ceiling before righting itself. Suspended by the four glider cameras, it was out of range of a stab, but still open for a bullet or knife throw if she could manage it.

"Nice trick."

"You should be honoured. I haven't had to use this yet. So, snake, anything to say?"

"You didn't ask how I got these scars?"

"No... I thought the answer self evident. It is, I admit, gratifying to know that someone else has had an even worse tournament than I."

He opened fire. Black Mamba dived behind a metal shield the BORED minions had left behind, and came up with a semi automatic snatched from behind it. The bullets glanced off the doctor's armour, her shots just a little hurried. His countering rifle shot didn't penetrate the metal shield, but a subsequent plasma bolt punched straight through it. Happily, Mamba had by then moved on. Under sustained fire, Robotnik presented his heavily armoured back to her, trying to pick his shots with his rear gun. However, Mamba had excellent cover amidst fallen BORED employees and equipment, and lacking a clean shot, Robotnik was unwilling to fire from a gun he had to leave his chair to reload. He fled to an area of the room where no debris would be directly beneath him, sheathing the lightsabre in order to cover his face. Relatively safe, he tried to think.

* * *

Across the room, Mamba was doing likewise.

_I shook him when I mentioned that Jedi. I wonder if he knows him. They both have those light swords. Since he's afraid of me, he won't close the distance. I'm going to have to take him down with ranged attacks. With all that armour, though, it'll need to be a perfect hit._

She glanced up. Her opponent was keeping his machine moving with a deliberate lack of pattern, denying her anything approaching a clear kill. However, he wasn't giving himself any more of an opportunity to shoot her, and the occasional bursts of lasers from his wrists were highly erratic.

_Stalemate, dammit._

_

* * *

_

Elsewhere in the building, Naoya, a demonic not-quite-but-almost-immortal hired by BORED to deal with one Raidou Kuzunoha, found his way barred by a Patriot and four Klokateers. Never being one to let lackeys stand in the way of a good killing spree, he was understandably irritated by this.

"Out of the way, mortals!" The Patriot in the lead, though breathing hard, stood his ground.

"I'm sorry, sir, but Sakyo would like to speak to you. It'll only take a moment." He handed the demon a phone, and the four Klokateers began slowly backing towards the exit of the room.

"Yes?"

The BORED executive did not mince words.

"Do you remember why I brought you here, Naoya?"

The demon twitched. "Of course. To deal with Raidou if he decided not to play by your rules."

"And were there any conditions attached to that?"

"Not to betray you. Elaborate threats were made, if I recall correctly. I have kept my terms."

"And would you not consider random killings of our staff qualifying as a little less than absolute loyalty? I made guarantees to my colleagues regarding my subordinates, and you have now jeopardised that."

The Patriot somersaulted backwards out of the room.

"Perhaps you need to be reminded who you are dealing with. BL Hallway."

"Wha-"

The walls exploded inwards.

* * *

Outside, the five BORED staff sighed with relief at their status of non dismemberment.

"That was close", one of the Klokateers sighed. Noises of agreement were made.

The Patriot raised a hand to his ear.

"Okay, folks, we've been stood down for a while. You go ahead; I'll catch up to you."

"You're going to stay here alone?"

"Got to warn the bosses if he escapes, don't I? Go on."

They left, slightly hesitantly, and Mystique reassumed her default form. She produced another phone and dialled.

"How'm I doing?"

"_Excellent_ work." Sakyo's voice appeared genuine in its appreciation, but Mystique did not allow herself complacency. "You're well on your way towards earning your wage. That's two high priority targets significantly damaged in less than an hour, and you're really improving staff morale. If you come out of this, I won't count Robotnik against you."

"...Speaking of which, he's in the fortress. Do you want me to...?"

Sakyo hesitated. "No, he's not that important, and you're really performing well. We have higher priority targets right now. If anyone else's free, I'll have them deal with him. Good luck." The BORED executive hung up, leaving Mystique to pursue her next target.

* * *

In the assembly hall, Robotnik's patience broke first. BORED might well be happy to let them swipe at each other, but once a victory occurred, they would strike in force. He had to have moved elsewhere before a sizeable hunter-killer squad could be put together for his benefit, which meant he needed to either win here quickly or flee. And, though the doctor was less arrogant that he once had been, he still had his pride. A plasma bolt punched through a discarded flamethrower, triggering an explosion which set surrounding debris aflame. He heard a wordless grunt from Mamba. Surprise, not pain, but she couldn't possibly linger in the part of the room where the fire raged. Bringing his chair to hover over the centre of the flames, secure in the knowledge that she wasn't directly beneath him, he exploded another tank of explosive fuel, cutting down the area in which his opponent could hide. A bullet glanced off his forearm, but the slight haze in the air was enough to throw off the assassin's aim, and bullets alone posed very little threat to a man in full plate armour. A third plasma bolt and subsequent fuel explosion provoked an "Ow!" from a section of battle detritus, and rifle shots towards that area of the room triggered Mamba briefly breaking cover to dive behind a table tipped up onto its side. A plasma bolt impacted with the table a heartbeat later, but failed to penetrate. Taking a calculated risk, Robotnik drove his chair forward hard enough to knock the table back down on its four legs, impacting with Mamba's back and forcing her to hands and knees. Rolling out from underneath, she fired off several rounds from her handgun, forcing Robotnik to shield his face and retreat. Looking up to find his target vanished, Robotnik exploded another tank with one of his bracers.

In his haste however, the doctor had neglected to properly examine the label of the canister. He now realised his mistake as the pressurised container exploded, spilling liquid nitrogen across the room, warring with the fires and adding steam to the air.

Mamba seized her chance as the doctor hesitated. She was on the near side of the spreading pool of frozen gas, and had no choice but to charge or be caught in it. A running leap cleared the flames beneath the doctor, and Robotnik looked up to find an assassin sharing his chair.

Her knife, already damaged from her previous battle, shattered on contact with his breastplate, but as the mechanic's hand seized her knife wrist, her other arm was already darting in to snatch out Robotnik's left eye.

As the howl rose in his throat, the doctor just maintained the sense to fling his mutilator wildly away with desperate strength. A plasma bolt followed her trajectory, but by that stage the doctor was far too busy shrieking with raw agony and clawing at his face to pay his opponent much heed.

* * *

As it happened, Mamba bounced off a wall beyond flame and nitrogen, before falling hard on her new wound. She'd managed to twist aside from the plasma bolt at the last second, but not avoid it entirely. Her right breast was almost entirely melted, and the bolt had also glanced off her upper arm. Fortunately, the wound was self cauterising, so she wasn't losing blood, but she still felt the need to take stock before returning for her retribution. She _would _return. Despite being temporarily inconvenient, her injury wasn't any more incapacitating than, say, a point blank shotgun blast. Her erstwhile opponent paid her no heed, his chair stationary near the ceiling as he loudly lamented his lost appendage. Pocketing the eye, Black Mamba slithered from the scene.

* * *

Robotnik should have known that movement was his safest option at this point, but any semi coherent thoughts that crossed his mind were swiftly superseded by either '_Aaaaaaaaaaagh! My face!' _or the calmer '_I swear on the Principles of Thermodynamics you will die before morning, snake.' _As pleasurable as the idea was, the mechanic found he had neither the strength nor the resolve to act. Suppose he found his mutilator, what then? Most likely, she would sweep him aside, and perhaps tear away his other eye.

The Contestants who'd survived this long in the tournament had all proved themselves in battle, and his mutilator had managed to kill a telekinetic lightsabre wielding warrior with a mere blade. A battered blade at that. How could a mere mechanic surviving on his wits realistically hope to cause her more than momentary inconvenience?

As the pain gradually faded, another thought rose from the depths of his mind like a bloated corpse. What, exactly, had he to lose? Anyone else he might meet this far into the tournament was probably equally accomplished. If Dr. Robotnik was to die, did it truly matter who held the blade? Why should he not indulge his desire for retribution? He'd injured his arm, and now his eye was missing. Sooner or later, another contestant would find him. Would a quick death not be preferable to dying by increasingly agonising instalments? If he died avenging his mutilation, he had likely hastened his death only slightly.

His mind set, he was interrupted by the arrival of a familiar face.

* * *

Shadow the Hedgehog had spent the last half hour sprinting around Grand Cross fortress with customary speed and surliness. He'd run into Death by Chocolate a couple of times, but Yato and Kaito had now been permanently assigned to deal with him. Between the two demons tag teaming in and out, and BORED's general staff rising to the occasion, Death's progress was being adequately impeded. Most of the crises Shadow was sent to deal with moved elsewhere by the time he'd arrived, and after the initial panic, some semblance of order was being maintained in Grand Cross Fortress. No hostiles had gotten within shouting distance of any BORED Executives thus far, and in the absence of any other emergency needing Shadow's attention, Ofdensen had decided to send him after Robotnik, who was using his keycard to wander around the stronghold. He wasn't a huge concern, focused more on escape than challenging the organisation, but Charles believed in efficiency.

Following the directions he'd been given, Shadow soon came upon the now devastated assembly hall. Smoke and condensation clung to the ceiling, and a series of fires were weakening but not yet dead. Had there not been moans of pain and murmurings of "My face..." from ceiling level, Shadow might well have walked from the room without noticing his quarry. As it was, he looked up to find Robotnik hovering near the ceiling, a gauntlet covering one side of his face. Slightly warily, unwilling to be the victim of another trick, Shadow spoke.

"Eggman? Doctor?" No response. The Hedgehog tried again. "Hey, Doctor? ...Oh, forget it. Chaos Bla−" But the attack went unused, as Dr. Robotnik finally raised his head, gauntlet coming away to reveal a gaping hole where his left eye had once been. Blood was still drying on his face.

"Shadow. Still alive I see."

"Wha− What happened?"

The mechanic sighed. "A Contestant. It doesn't matter. So, have you come to kill me?"

"Those're my orders. But leave the building, leave behind the ATV, and I might let you walk away."

Robotnik laughed, not his trademarked megalomaniac sally but a tired, bitter sound. "And then what? Face the Contestants? No, Hedgehog. I won't pretend confidence, but I will not stand aside. But what of you? I have other business to conclude before I leave, but rest assured it has nothing to do with you or your employers. I will not challenge them. Leave me be."

"I'm under direct orders. I can't leave you loose."

"**So be it, **Shadow**. **Shall we?"

The Hedgehog nodded once, before blurring into motion, racing up the walls in an attempt to close the distance. Robotnik jerked his chair aside, reaching for a bag beside him and making a throwing motion as Shadow fell back. Hesitating, wary of explosives, Shadow dipped for a Chaos Emerald and a handgun. Firing off a burst of ammunition, not really expecting a result, Shadow inspected the objects which the mechanic was scattering in the brief respite granted by the suppressing fire. They appeared to be teeth, bound together in threes so that one side faced up. Each tooth was covered with liquid. He had an idea of what it might be.

_That monster... Caltrops. Damn._ Robotnik wanted to prevent the hedgehog from using his agility. Shadow would have to slow his movements to avoid his feet being pincushioned, thereby making himself easier to hit with ranged weapons. In addition to the wreckage from the battle, the small fires still burning, and the pool of gradually evaporating nitrogen, the caltrops made footing incredibly treacherous in any kind of headlong sprint.

_You want to make this a contest of artillery, Doctor? Fine by me! _

"Chaos Blast!" The mechanic avoided the worst of the strike, but the impact was still enough to send his chair spinning. "Chaos Spear! Chaos Spear!" One of the energy bolts hit the back of the armoured chair, rocking it, but the other missed entirely, and Robotnik spun back with a rifle ready. His gunshot whirred past the hedgehog's left ear, forcing him to duck aside. Grimacing, Shadow suppressed his instinct to just _run._ Returning fire from his handgun, trying to force Robotnik to stop firing to shield himself, Shadow ducked and dodged as fast as he could while picking his steps. Had Robotnik a faster firing weapon, the Hedgehog wouldn't have been able to avoid being hit, but as it was, he managed to avoid bleeding. His rifle empty, Robotnik fired off a plasma bolt, forcing Shadow to use a Chaos spear to cancel it out.

Presenting his armoured back to his opponent, Robotnik fired his rear gun, forcing Shadow to speedrun two paces to one side, while the mechanic spread more caltrops on every clear area of floor he could find. Ears open for the shriek which would precede a Chaos attack, Robotnik forced his opponent to move back with his rifle, before spinning and harrying him with twin plasma bolts. Three Chaos spears in quick succession countered, but Shadow didn't manage a clean hit. Growling, he came perilously close to impaling his foot on a tooth, and a gunshot nicked his shoulder. After futilely returning fire, his handgun clicked empty and he holstered it, producing another Emerald instead.

"Chaos Control!"

Robotnik's movements appeared to slow to a crawl, but he kept firing as Shadow bolted for him. With time slowed, Shadow was able to run at a moderate speed while seeing and avoiding the caltrops. Even then, however, bullets and plasma bolts still had to be dodged, delaying his advance. While in a midair lunge for the mechanic, time returned and the Hedgehog crashed into the corner of the chair without dealing damage. Forced to speedrun in his retreat, he used every ounce of concentration he had to avoid stepping on any spikes, but finally slipped instead on a shard of frozen chocolate. He should have been dead in that instant, but the plasma bolt impacted on the floor beside his head, close enough to singe his fur. As he gained his feet he saw why − Robotnik was struggling with several winged creatures, his chair swinging erratically backward as he flailed at them. Gilly, one of the BORED garrison's resident demon summoners, waved from a doorway.

"Hey. I'm your battle support this fine evening. How're you holding up?"

Shadow shrugged. "I've been better." Behind them, Robotnik sheared a demon in half with a lightsabre slash, but three more darted in and wrenched the weapon from his grip. Plasma bursts brought them down a heartbeat later, and he managed to blast apart the rest of the swarm with an exquisitely timed grenade, finishing stragglers with rifle shots. Gilly sighed.

"Oh well, back to work I guess. Nice seeing you again." She raised her gauntlets and began summoning more demons, leaving Shadow considering his options. Even with three emeralds, he couldn't just toss off Chaos techniques like bullets. As he watched, Robotnik spared ammunition for a few fire extinguishers hanging on the walls, spreading foam across the floor where nitrogen and fire didn't already exist. Even with Chaos Control, the mechanic's latest move effectively neutralised his ability to run, his defining characteristic. Reaching behind him, he drew Travis' Tsubaki and ignited it. It was unlikely he'd get close enough to use it on the mechanic, but it'd make a passable means of blocking any bullets fired his way. Crouching, he peppered the doctor with his handgun_,_ aware as he was doing so that it would probably be of no avail. Dr. Eggman, as always, was keeping well out of his reach, and trying to run up the walls and land on the ATV needed momentum that he didn't trust the floor to give him. The fire extinguisher foam was lapping at his shoes, making purchase slippery even where there were no spikes. He began edging around towards the doctor's blind side, waiting for the opportune moment to release a devastating Chaos technique. He had to spare them as much as he could − if he survived this encounter, he'd fight again before morning.

* * *

Having found an abandoned office to catch her breath, Black Mamba was now set to return to the site of her prior confrontation. She was not someone who allowed an injury to go unpunished. Granted, her opponent might well have moved on by the time she arrived, and if that had happened she'd have to let it go −her daughter was more important than any injury to herself, but if the robot egg man was still around, she'd find some comfort in avenging the wound he'd given her.

As she neared her destination, it became clear that someone else had taken her place. The heavy crash of Robotnik's rifle mingled with what sounded like handgun bursts and, interestingly, numerous bestial snarls. Despite her injury, Mamba had no desire to intervene in a conflict which had nothing to do with her. Although, if one of the participants had a sword... In her brief hesitation, the decision was made for her. A ... bizarre winged red _thing _crashed through the double doors, backwards and fast. Its right arm was missing, and that side was sporting serious burns, but on seeing her, the thing began gibbering and attracted two more similar creatures.

"What is it, boys?" A black haired woman looked out, saw Mamba standing there with knife stub and gun raised.

"Oh...interesting. You're Black Mamba, right? The only human female Contestant in this tournament of ours. Don't try to run, my demons can move faster than you." She looked over her shoulder.

_Demons? What−_

"Shadow, can you handle him on your own for a while?" No audible reply came, but she seemed to take silence as assent. "Okay then. Let's go."

* * *

After his initial panic, Robotnik had gained the measure of the demons he was facing. Their bodies were powerfully built and could take bullets, if not plasma bursts, without faltering. Their wing membranes, however, were not as durable, and once a bullet parted the filmy wings, they plunged like stones. Given the environment, they were quite likely to land on fire, ice, or spikes, but even if they didn't, once wingless, he was beyond their reach. Considering that he'd recently been the victim of an eye gouging, he felt he wasn't faring too badly. With his narrowed field of vision, he had to spin constantly to avoid being blindsided, and stabs of pain distracted him from time to time, but he didn't feel he was especially in danger. While Shadow remained an elusive target, he wasn't dealing significant damage. His ability to run neutralised, the Hedgehog was taking pot-shots at the floating chair, most of which were sparking off armour of one kind or another. All Robotnik truly needed to fear were Chaos techniques, which Shadow was reluctant to use frivolously.

Although the spinning hoverchair made his aim erratic, he kept a steady stream of ranged attacks moving towards the hedgehog, keeping him from becoming comfortable. The doctor had always found that forcing a hedgehog to think under sustained pressure was the best way to defeat one. Although Shadow was already doing better than Sonic would have. Curiously, he had somehow managed to acquire a lightsabre, and was using it to block any bullets sent his way. An experimental plasma bolt ricocheted from the blade and blasted a flying demon apart, but managed to dim the blade's beam noticeably. The model he was using had a power source with a very short lifespan, periodically rejuvenated by shaking the hilt. The feature had flaws and benefits when compared to Starkiller's longer lasting but non–rechargeable power cell, and had he not been engaged in a frenetic battle to the death, Robotnik would have taken a great deal more interest. By this stage, however, his missing eye was of even more concern than engineering. Shadow had forced him to recover his senses, and he wanted to finish with the Hedgehog and set about hunting his mutilator down

With rapidly rising irritation at being forced to endure yet another stalemate, the mechanic tossed a grenade slightly in front of his opponent, hoping to provoke a dodge. Shadow, to his honest surprise, batted the sphere directly back at him, forcing him to swerve his chair to avoid it. He wasn't quite losing, but this fight seemed to be one of those that would be decided based on sheer endurance.

_Have it your way. Hedgehog. Metal rusts, but flesh rots._

* * *

The demon which had crashed through the door had died of its injuries, but the other two flew directly at her. Mamba wasn't sure what those things were, but she knew how to deal with a charge, ducking and allowing the creatures' momentum to take them past her. Gilly, about to summon more demons, had to sidestep a bullet from the Bride, before the assassin had to turn to deal with those behind her. Sliding around another lunge, she grabbed the offending creature's taloned foot and swung herself up onto its back, wincing slightly as the pressure aggravated her plasma wound. Her knife stub buried itself in the back of its neck, but the demon refused to die. Her weight proved too much, however, and the thing hit the floor heavily and ungracefully, stunned. Rising, Mamba raised the gun in her other hand and fired off five rounds at the other demon, failing to cause serious injury but parting the wing membrane and causing it to drop to the ground.

The demon hesitated an instant, then charged, now wingless but only slightly less dangerous for that. Taking a bullet directly where the heart would have been in a human without slowing, the demon forced Mamba to dodge a claw swipe towards the side of her neck. Her shoulder charge knocked the monster back a step, during which time her knife had swept up and across its throat, striking sparks off scales. Ducking another swing, Mamba ran to one side, directly through the remnants of the thing's left wing, provoking a howl of pain and a wound across her upper back. Ignoring her new wound as she did her older ones, Mamba planted a foot in the small of the demon's back, grabbed both wing bones, and pulled on them while pushing with her feet. The demon lasted longer than most humans would have in the circumstances, but one didn't survive as an assassin by being weak. Eventually its spine broke, leaving a panting Bride facing a surprised but not unduly worried Gilly.

"Not bad...You're still alive for a reason. But how long can you keep it up?"

"What are these things?"

"My demons. I summon them through these." The summoner raised a pair of metal gauntlets with inlaid rune carvings. "They-"

"Thank you!" Mamba lunged, grabbing at Gilly's wrists while ramming her head forward. Staggering, the summoner was not able to prevent her gauntlets from being torn from her body and tossed aside, but when the assassin's hand drove in for the killing Tiger Crane strike to the throat, she found a hand gripping her wrist.

Gilly smiled across at her. "Sometimes, demons can't be there to help out. We learn other ways of defending ourselves. She released her grip before the countermove broke her arm, and drew back a step, hands and body shifting into a stance. One hand curled and uncurled.

It was impolite to refuse an invitation.

Mamba had lost her knife and gun fighting the demons, but her hands were formidable weapons in themselves. Her initial strikes to breastbone, jaw, and shoulders were quick and brutal enough to defeat seasoned martial artists, but Gilly was adept at protecting herself at close to mid range. Their styles complemented each other surprisingly well. As an assassin, Mamba fought with a method that was fast, aggressive, and merciless, a relentless barrage of jabs, kicks, and footsweeps designed above all else to kill as quickly and efficiently as possible. Gilly fought defensively, her style geared towards fending off an opponent until she had the opportunity to summon demons. She had to be quick to check Mamba's furious advance, but she knew how to stay alive. The combined effect was something resembling an exhibition match –_this_ is how you strike at the solar plexus in an attempt to collapse the rib cage, while _this_ is how you defend against that same move.

As the aggressor, Mamba inherently had an advantage. She only had to penetrate the other woman's defence once or twice to finish her, while Gilly knew if she executed a successful block, she'd have to defend against a separate attack shortly afterwards. Her countermoves were mostly designed to impede future attack rather than kill, locks and bone breakers which Mamba had more than enough experience to avoid.

As time passed, the assassin changed her tactics. Conceding that Gilly was expecting and guarding against finishing moves, she shifted her style towards causing as much pain as possible instead. Gilly had to keep her defence centred on preventing killing strikes, which left her relatively open for painful but less harmful attacks such as pinches. Shortly after shifting her style, more attacks began slipping through the summoner's guard, and Gilly began attempting to edge away.

Finally, a blocked throat swipe gave Mamba the opportunity she needed, and a footsweep took Gilly off her feet. A stamp impacted on the grounded summoner's knee with a crunch, and she screamed. Before Mamba could deliver a finisher, however, she felt claws dig into her back and was lifted off her feet. The demon which she had stunned earlier had regained consciousness, and sprang to its summoner's defence as soon as it saw her fall. Mamba was carried through the still open double doors before the demon lost its grip. Empty handed, Mamba's eyes found Robotnik's dropped lightsabre nearby and gathered it to her in a rolling dive. Her previous opponent had apparently had some safety feature installed in his weapon to prevent others from using it, but this one had no such precaution, and she ignited the blade just before being set upon by a half dozen demons the mechanic had callously deprived of their wings earlier.

Vipers taught themselves to use many weapons, but Mamba had always been a swordswoman at heart. The lightsabre had some differences to a metal sword –the beam had no weight, and there was no flat or edge to the blade− but it was less difficult to master than one might first believe. A well crafted sword, and her own had been one of the best, was close to weightless once it was moving, and while she would have to be careful not to brush her palms off the blade or strike the back of her shoulder on the backswing, she could use the weapon to good effect. The demons fell in pieces, without landing a single strike. Raising the blade to shoulder height, Mamba allowed her eyes to find Gilly, who had recovered her gauntlets and was standing towards the room's entrance, supported by no fewer than six freshly summoned demons. Their stares locked an instant, and Gilly dropped her eyes first. Summoning demons took energy, and she was tired enough from her hand to hand fight that even maintaining those supporting her took effort.

"I can't fight that. ...Sorry, Shadow. I'll send some of the irregulars this way if I find any. Good luck." Following the summoner's gaze, Mamba found a... giant spiky rat, standing upright and wearing gloves and shoes, meeting her stare. The rat, presumably Shadow, was holding a light sword and some kind of gemstone. Her duty done, Gilly's demons took wing, and she was gone. The rat glared at her, glanced at Robotnik hovering near the ceiling, and hesitated.

"Want to take this outside?" Mamba also risked a quick look ceilingward. The floating mechanic would only be too eager to finish the winner of a fencing match within his admittedly limited vision. Somewhere with a lower ceiling would give both of them a far better chance of survival. After a hesitation, she followed the rat thing into the corridor, sabre raised against a plasma bolt or any other attack. In order to intervene, Robotnik would have to bring his chair into a corridor with little room to manoeuvre, and given his missing eye, it was doubtful he would risk closing with her again. Robotnik made no move towards them as they left the room. They were too far away to notice the small smile. Why intervene, when he could let them wear each other out?

Safely out of the mechanic's direct line of fire. Mamba halted. Ideally, it would be better to be further away, but she did not trust her opponent not to lead her into an ambush or a cell. Shadow raised his Tsubaki, moving to just outside her blade's reach.

"So...Black Mamba. You the Contestant took Robotnik's eye?"

"Robotnik? If you mean the guy in the floating chair, yeah, that was me." She took the eye from her pocket with a free hand and held it out to Shadow, who glanced away in disgust ... prompting a lunge from the assassin. The black furred Enforcer could never have gotten a parry up in time, but was ten paces further down the corridor than he should have been by the time the blade reached where he had been standing. With Mamba confused and off balance, he appeared within arms reach again, forcing her to bat aside a thrust towards her heart. When her counter swept towards his head, he disappeared again, moving well out of reach and drawing a handgun. Blocking those rounds he fired off, this time Mamba was ready for his reappearance and brought her blade around to lock with his with a dramatic buzzing noise. Without momentum, Shadow didn't have her physical strength and was forced back −and his blade rapidly dimmed in prolonged contact with hers. Drawing back yet again, the Hedgehog fumbled for an instant with his various weapons before producing the gemstone.

"Chaos Spear!" Mamba ducked the burst of light, and in the instant in which Shadow was stowing away his Emerald, stepped sharply to one side, blade held out horizontally across the area she had been standing. The Hedgehog's tendency to lower his head while running to reduce air resistance saved his life, as Mamba misjudged his height. Instead of decapitation, her blade merely sheared the very tip of his crest from his head. Spinning at the tug he felt, Shadow stopped just within her reach, and had to throw himself backwards, landing on his elbows, to avoid her slash. Drawing his handgun, Shadow fired it empty to keep the assassin at bay while he got to his feet, before retreating to the very brink of the assembly hall, frantically shaking the Tsubaki hilt to prevent it dying completely. Mamba arched an eyebrow.

"Seems you got the bargain bin light sword. Want to trade?" Shadow grunted, and ran at her again. She blocked the first strike, and the next, before her counter nicked his shoulder. She was clearly the better swordfighter, and Shadow was about to retreat when the assassin dived sideways, through a door in the side of the hallway. Confused, Shadow spun to find Robotnik floating behind him, finger on the trigger of a heavy machine gun and not even stopping to gloat.

"Chaos Control!"

Time slowed, but Robotnik had already been pulling the trigger before it activated. Retreating or advancing was impossible, as the bullets would follow him, so Shadow was forced to duck, dodge and sidestep on the spot. The first bullet nicked his ear, but in slowed time, he had the capability to avoid the attacks. Spinning away from a bullet, another sliced across his back, another his ankle. Less than five feet away, the barrage of bullets was difficult to predict with certainty, and he hadn't the spare time to even counterattack. Robotnik's facial expression moved with an almost comical slowness as he tried to track the hedgehog. To his eyes (sorry, _eye_), Shadow was blurring. Running, that would be natural, but the hedgehog was standing on the spot and _dodging point blank gunshots!_ Gritting his teeth, Robotnik lifted the weapon and shook the barrel, putting the pressure of the recoil on his right arm, but making the trajectories more difficult to predict. Shadow, had he been moving slow enough to be seen, was also showing teeth in his pain and strain. Throwing himself towards the nearest wall in an effort to avoid a concentrated burst, he caught a bullet on the rebound − another minor wound that sliced across his jaw. Real time returned for an instant, and Shadow took an impact in his left shoulder, a more serious wound than any others so far.

"Ugh! CHAOS CONTROL!"

Time slowed once more, and the Hedgehog resumed his frantic dance as the volley continued, most shots missing but some drawing close enough to cut narrow trenches in his fur. Crouching, at one stage his head was snapped back by the incidental force of a round which brushed the top of his head. Real time returned again, but this time he was luckier, as one round sliced his inner thigh and another created a flesh wound in his side before he could re-instigate Chaos Control a third time. The weight of the barrel had become too much for Robotnik's injured arm by this point, and he'd lowered it a touch, creating less variety in the round's trajectories. This made things easier for Shadow, but he still took several minor wounds before emerging from Chaos Control a final time to find Robotnik's pillaged heavy machine gun clicking empty, the doctor staring at him in new respect.

"Why did you even bother using an ATV?"

Shadow shrugged, wincing as his bullet wound protested. "Comfort. I liked that machine, and you just gave it away for Ban to toss into the volcano."

"He did _what!?_" _Midou, next time we meet, there will be no mercy._

"Oh, Smoker forced him to it, but still. I put a lot of effort into making that thing roadworthy."

_A mechanic? Such a shame I must kill him._

"Your workmanship leaves much to be desired. Although those were quality tires, I'll grant you that much."

"Thank you, Doctor. But... You've fired your shots, now it's my move." He raised two of his three Emeralds. "Goodbye. Chaos B− Aaaaaaaaaaghhhhh!" The mechanic blinked, and glanced to one side to find a stream of liquid fire flowing from the room Mamba had hidden herself in. It was a dormitory, but the Patriot it had belonged to had been intelligent, trigger-happy, or insane enough to keep a flamethrower under his bed, and one Beatrix Kiddo had found it. Shadow, though in incredible pain, managed to raise the Emerald in his grasp.

"Chaaaossss...Blaaaastt!" Flames seared the inside of his throat as he spoke, but Robotnik had no room to dodge in the cramped hallway. The mechanic did the only thing he could, and spun his chair, trusting his armour to protect him. The Chaos technique blasted his chair apart, shockwaves from the impact throwing him forwards into the assembly hall as his painstakingly crafted machine fell in pieces in his wake. The mechanic threw out his arms to prevent his fall, but his shoulder screamed at him and his bald head hit his armoured wrists hard.

Back in the hallway, Shadow turned directly to face into the stream of flame.

"Nngh...CHAAOOOS SPEEAAR!" The technique dented the metal doorway behind Mamba's head, but didn't strike her. Nonetheless, she was forced to stop triggering the flamethrower, and in his brief respite Shadow disappeared down the corridor, scooping up the Tsubaki on the run with flames still clinging to his fur.

Mamba hesitated an instant, trying to assess who she should deal with first. His wrecked machine was an effective barrier between her and Robotnik, and without it, he would likely be of little threat anyway. But she hadn't lived this long by taking foolish chances. Tossing the heavy flamethrower towards the hall, she punctured it with a bullet before igniting the fuel with the tip of her lightsabre, creating an impassable wall of flame between herself and the mechanic. He couldn't surprise her from behind. That done, Black Mamba went in search of Shadow the Hedgehog, stopping only to retrieve Robotnik's eye from where she'd dropped it.

* * *

Shadow had left his opponents behind, but he couldn't outrun the fire clinging to him. Once the scene of his battle was three corridors away, he took a detour into the nearest bathroom, tearing the fixtures out of the walls with a Chaos spear before he reached them. Water fountained across the room as he stepped into a shower cubicle quenching persistent flames and washing ashes from his body. His crest had been burned to a stub and he was missing large patches of fur, but he was alive. Closing his eyes briefly, he wondered how Ofdensen would take his report. While Shadow couldn't even convince _himself_ that his mission had been a complete success, it hadn't entirely been a failure. His parting shot might have killed Robotnik, and even if it hadn't, it had certainly disarmed him. A mechanic was only as good as the machines he had to hand. On foot, sooner or later a lackey or passing demon would chew him up. As for Mamba, well, Shadow had not received any direct orders regarding her beyond his general charge to take down 'any hostiles whatsoever.' The woman was surviving incredibly well for someone with no unnatural powers of any kind, but she'd taken injuries, and it was hard to imagine her as being more of a threat than Death by Chocolate. He'd walked away with some of his dignity intact, and he felt sure Gilly would vouch for him if his performance was called into question. He'd at least hurt both of those he'd met, and he was of more value to BORED alive.

...Hopefully, the Executives would share his opinion.

Presently, he heard a splash outside his cubicle. The entire room was by this stage sitting in two inches of water. It could easily have been a falling piece of masonry from the Chaos speared walls. But...

When the lightsabre came through the side of the cubicle, it was met with a crackle by the blade of the Tsubaki. Both assassin and hedgehog hit their knees from the electrical backlash involved in operating the weapon in a room with water spurting from shattered piping. The lightsabre fell from Mamba's grip as she twitched, and landed in water. Shadow managed to toss the Tsubaki aside and pulled his gun, but Mamba caught his wrist and tugged it upwards. The bullet shattered one of the few surviving wall tiles above her head, and Shadow drew back to prevent the assassin attacking inside his guard. Slipping on the water slicked tiled floor, Shadow landed hard and lost his gun. Drawing an Emerald instead, he opened his mouth just before the assassin's foot connected solidly with it. If he couldn't speak, she reasoned, he couldn't use any of those crazy magic tricks. Shadow glared and tugged at her extended foot with surprising strength, pulling her down into a seated position as he himself rose. Lowering his head, he charged her, his full body weight crashing directly onto her plasma wound, prompting an uncharacteristic pained shriek from the assassin. Grabbing the remains of the Hedgehog's crest, Mamba tugged his head up in preparation for a throat strike, but found his gloved hand in the way. Aware of the reaction he had evoked, Shadow forced his opponent to grab his wrists, then drove his head forward and _bit_, hard, directly into her wound. Mamba hissed in pain and threw him back into the opposite wall. He kept hold of his Emerald as she rose and charged.

"Chao-" Her elbow found the side of his head, pre-empting his attack. He managed to squirm aside from the full armed punch that followed, tile shards biting the assassin's knuckles instead. The wall visibly buckled. Shadow managed a punch of his own to Mamba's left shoulder, numbing her arm, but he threw himself aside as her right arm jabbed towards his eyes. Ducking and rolling, he came up facing away from her, throwing an elbow back as she gripped his crest. It impacted on her jaw, causing her grip to loosen just enough for him to spin and draw his other gun. He was levelling it at her forehead when her hands flashed out. Before he could react, her fingertips tapped him lightly but repeatedly in the chest.

Shadow felt something happen within him, and suddenly was tasting blood. His gun barrel touched her forehead, but something held him back from pulling the trigger.

"What'd you just do?"

"What? Oh, that. Well, Shadow the Whatever The Fuck You Are, I've just performed my master's signature move, known informally as the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. You can guess what happens. You'll be fine...until you take five steps away from where you are standing now." She struck at his elbow, and caught the gun before it hit the ground. "I'll need this."

Crouching, she gathered up his other gun, her lightsabre, and Shadow's Tsubaki, guard down and apparently unconcerned about any threat from him. With the battery temporarily dead, she could pick the katana up without electrocuting herself. Then she left, turning her back without any hesitation whatsoever.

Alone, Shadow sat down, an Emerald clasped loosely in one hand. Then he looked up.

"Chaos Blast!"

* * *

Robotnik woke, and was mildly surprised that he had done so. That neither of his opponents had thought to finish him seemed an incredible streak of good fortune, but there was little point in questioning fate. Cradling his arm, he stood up to find himself alone with corpses and shrapnel. No sounds of battle were in the immediate area. It seemed his adversaries had moved elsewhere, as he didn't see their bodies in the vicinity. He was alive. Still. Quite the achievement in the circumstances.

Which wasn't to say that the battle hadn't come with a price. His eye was still missing, and, perhaps worse, his hover chair was in pieces, blasted apart by Shadow's parting shot. Aware there would likely be little worth salvaging, Robotnik found one of the fire extinguishers he had not blasted apart earlier and attempted to rescue his machine.

In truth, there was little to be done. By the time he'd deadened the fire enough to consider salvage, the only things worth rescuing were a pair of cameras. Of course, the fabric gliders they were mounted on were ashes, but the frames still existed. He thought he might be able to do something with them later, but for now, he had a more pressing concern. Namely, wreaking bloody revenge.

Wreckage and fire prevented him from undertaking a direct pursuit of his opponents, but Robotnik had quite a good sense of direction when he wasn't in a forest, and it didn't take him long to find an alternate route. Even so, on foot, he could never have caught up if Black Mamba hadn't been coming to meet him.

* * *

Mamba had come very close to dying from Shadow's parting gift. It had been stupid of her not to be expecting it, but she'd only just made enough distance not to be in the direct path of the blast when it tore out the corridor's entire wall. Had she been even slightly slower, she would not have survived.

But she had survived, and she had no time to dwell on what might have been. Robotnik would be hunting her, and rather than have him ambush her when she wasn't expecting it, she ought to finish him now and nip any threat he might pose in the bud.

It didn't take her long to find the man. Between his armour and his obesity, she just had to move towards the clanking and wheezing noises. They met along a stretch of corridor with no cover for either of them and no doors. To her mild amusement, he lowered his gas mask as soon as he saw her, ruling out another eye-snatch.

_Who organised this competition? I mean, really. A magic rat, a robot egg, and Harry, in the same deathmatch tournament? What's next, a fucking kitten?_

Robotnik met her stare surprisingly calmly. "Shadow?"

"Dead, or soon will be."

"A shame...he was a good mechanic. No match for myself, of course, but−"

"Don't waste your energy. Both of us will need it. Catch."

"What?" Travis' Tsubaki bounced off his chest. "What's this?"

"I can't use two at once. It's yours."

"What?" Robotnik pressed the ignition, and the now recharged but still wet blade released its energy in the form of unfocused electricity, which would have severely inconvenienced a man not wearing insulated armour. As it happened, Robotnik merely smirked and hooked the weapon onto his belt.

"A valiant effort, my dear, but I am a mechanical genius." Mamba tried to ignite her other sabre, but this, too, was waterlogged. Pocketing it, she raised Shadow's handgun. Robotnik, in turn, readied his bracers. Both knew that this would be the decisive encounter, and that knowledge held them back from immediately firing. Robotnik's expression was unreadable behind his mask, but she thought she heard a smile.

"Do you truly believe that toy can penetrate my armour?"

"I may not need to." The confidence in her statement caused the mechanic to hesitate, and the assassin fired. Her first experimental shot bounced from armour, confirming that handguns couldn't penetrate his plate even at close range. Her second impacted in the centre of her target's forehead, snapping his head back, but not piercing the mask. Her third sliced his forearm, one of the few areas of his body not encased in armour. The fourth sparked off his right ankle − she'd been hoping to trip him, but the doctor only staggered. The fifth bullet provoked a small yelp as it dented the armour directly covering the shoulder Robotnik was favouring. All this happened in the instant before Robotnik fired his own weapon. Having ascertained that bullets alone would not bring her adversary down, Beatrix Kiddo sidestepped the stream of plasma and charged.

Bemused that his opponent was running directly down the firing line of his ultimate weapons, Robotnik failed to actually use said weapons until she was within arms reach, by which point her hands were knocking his aside. Instantly, he was retreating, trying to move out of her range and into his. A footsweep sent him over backwards, but he fired both bracers mid fall, forcing Mamba to dodge aside and giving him some breathing space. Her stamp on his ankle was softened by armour, and he sat up shooting plasma. Stepping around the bolts, she kicked him hard in the shoulder, but despite his flinch he managed to sweep aside the gun with his other hand as she levelled it to fire at the briefly exposed top of his head.

Although Mamba was a far superior melee fighter, she wasn't used to attacking someone wearing body armour. Her fellow assassins almost universally preferred speed and agility to durability, and no one bothered to assassinate foot-soldiers in wartime. An assassin who needed to kill a guard usually wasn't good at their trade. Robotnik's only real vulnerability was his throat, and he was protecting it accordingly. If she could cock her gun under his jaw she could end it, but it was very difficult to kill an armoured man with your hands.

Sidestepping a plasma burst, she ripped at his gauntlet. It was not as easily removed as Gilly's, and to her embarrassment Mamba had to allow the Doctor to regain his feet. Lunging low, she tugged his legs upwards, turning the top heavy mechanic upside down. His elaborate shoulder guards softened the impact, preventing his neck taking his full weight, and he rolled upright just outside her reach, but facing away from her. Not looking around, he fired a bolt over his shoulder, which the assassin had to postpone a lunge attack to dodge. In the interim, Robotnik managed to turn, only for her kick to find his stomach, knocking him back a step. The follow up, an open handed throat gouge, snapped the mechanic's head to one side as he lowered his chin to take the strike instead.

"Just die!" the two fighters shrieked in one voice.

* * *

Nearby, two shotgun wielding Klokateers, the only backup that could be spared for Shadow, were debating the best course of action to take. Shadow was either dead or fled, preventing them from supporting him in battle. Loyal enough that their consciences prevented them from just walking away, but pragmatic enough not to want to die, the two lackeys were left in a moral quandary. Initially, they'd taken the option of just waiting for a winner, but the furious hand to hand battle showed no sign of abating any time soon, and the longer they lingered, the more likely it was that a Contestant or demon would be drawn by the conflict. After some debate, the more confident one arrived at a decision.

* * *

Sliding around yet more plasma bolts, Mamba fired three rounds directly at her opponent's right shoulder. Both his hands flew to the spot, involuntarily unleashing superheated plasma at the ceiling. She was lunging at his finally exposed throat when twin shotgun blasts tore through her kidneys, emerging just above her hips to bounce from Robotnik's armour. She fired one last round in midair, impacting in his jaw with enough force to knock free two teeth even through the mask, but that was her last chance. A plasma bolt took her gun hand to the elbow, and Robotnik, after eliminating the henchmen, removed his mask to smile down at her (and she noted with some satisfaction, also spit teeth.)

"Sorry baby. Mommy's not going to make it home." His smile vanished instantly, and she almost smiled. "Not you."

"I'm not ordinarily a cruel man," the Egg robot said, clearly lying, "but for you, I believe I'll make an exception. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth..."

"Funny you should mention that." Mamba's remaining limb moved slowly across her body to one of her pockets. "I got your eye right here." She drew it out. By now, the eye had dried somewhat, but it was still recognisable. Robotnik backed away hurriedly.

"You want it?"

Hardly daring to breathe, the mechanic nodded.

"Too bad." She clenched her fist, and briefly felt heat on her face.

**Author's notes:**

_Wow, that was long. I feel I may have shot myself in the foot here −using so many of other people's characters opens the door for mistakes. Couple of things to mention._

_Death by Chocolate, Gilly, and Naoya are fine. I don't have the authority to kill or even significantly damage them. They're just slightly injured, very pissed off, and a little less self assured._

_Why is Naoya in this chapter? He killed members of BORED staff for no reason. There is no way the Executives are going to take that lying down, especially since Sakyo's already on thin ice, and in the current crisis they need every loyal underling they can find._

_Why is Mystique in this chapter? I just wanted acknowledge her history with Robotnik. Plus she's a good character to play with. Why is she in the form of a lackey? To raise the morale of the general staff, show them they can achieve victories and ths raise the standard of their defence._

_I was writing right up to the deadline for this one, so the proofreading might be a little sloppy. That said, I have no excuses-if I lose this fight, I've lost while at the top of my game. Best of luck to my opponents. _

_Oh, and yes, this is a double kill. Theoretically, Shadow could be alive, but since he can't move, what good is he as an Enforcer?_


	10. Game Over

Hi again, folks. I lost the last fight to Shadow the Hedgehog, as written by Avatarjk137. Robotnik died due to a Chaos Head Explode technique. Congratulations. So here's my last contribution to A Winner is Two, in which I still own nothing. It's up to the other writers whether this counts as canon or not.

**Game Over**

Charles Foster Ofdensen prided himself on his ability to show absolutely no outward signs of distress whatever the situation. He was not pacing. He was not fidgeting. He was not blinking excessively. An innocent bystander who happened to pass by would not have known from his demeanour that what had begun as a standard deathmatch tournament had very nearly quite literally gone to hell. Had the bystander been able to survive several point blank rifle blasts from his five black masked bodyguards, they would have gone on their way unenlightened.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a brown horned demon locked in mortal combat combat with an ice breathing penguin. Peacefully and unhurriedly, Ofdensen reached out and pushed a button, sending the elevator to a lower floor. As the doors closed, his phone rang.

"Who is this?"

"Number 79, sir. Our squad was sent to support Shadow. We got there too late, but I thought you'd want to know that he took down Robotnik and Mamba."

"How is he?"

"A little charred, but he'll be fine."

"Thank you."

Charles hung up, before dialling Sakyo. Face to face meetings were out of the question − at best, they'd make it easier for Death to track them, at worst, one of the others would _be _the demon, either a shapeshifted copy or being puppeteered. Eschewing contact totally, however, made it difficult to gain a clear picture of what was going on, so on occasion the executives would initiate a conference call.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Where are you?" _Solidus? Already in contact? _He let the silence hang, and the two executives, (if they still were who they seemed) realised no answer would be forthcoming. It was the ex-president who continued the conversation.

"Problems?"

"Not yet." The band manager resisted the temptation to touch the latex mask in his pocket. "And you?"

"No. Sakyo?" They cared little for each other's well being by this point, but they might well be facing each other across a boardroom soon enough.

"A brush with one Midou Ban. I lost a demon, but the threat was eradicated. Yato and Kaito are still following Death around, and it seems Kuzunoha managed to destroy Naoya."

"So now you've lost your counterpoint to the summoner?" Raidou's 'devil summoner alliance' had been dealing heavy casualties to the Klokateers, and without demonic support, death rates would increase.

"What? Oh, no, Mystique dealt with him and Hakkai. Nero and Haru haven't been located since, but I don't think they'll be quite as threatening."

After a shaky start to the tournament, Mystique was now desperate to prove her worth, and her loyalty seemed absolute, at least until she was safely home with her reward. The same could be said for Shadow. Unfortunately, not all of the Enforcers were quite so reliable.

"What about the others?"

"We sent-" _We? _"-Shadow to deal with Robotnik and Mamba; Either he's dead, or they are."

"He defeated them both. Why did you send one of _my _enforcers?"

Silence. Then: "Our options are limited, Charles. Kakashi's rogue, and Incredible turned when he was sent to deal with him. Tashigi's more concerned with her Marines than our orders, and Jade may or may not still be trustworthy. Jiraiya? Who knows?"

Ofdensen adjusted his tie. "Incredible was a poorly chosen Enforcer. It was inevitable he would rebel. And he doesn't even know about the Lotus."

In spite of the homocidal chocolate demon still loose, the situation was now more manageable. All the Contestants with keycards had been eliminated, and with most Enforcers that still held them already inside the compound, it was unlikely there'd be more invasions. But...

"We need to think about Smoker. He knows about the Lotus, won't be bought into silence, and if he gets through to his ship, he'll have Marines and Tashigi at his back."

Sakyo sighed. "We don't have the resources or time to hunt down targets. We can worry about survivors once we get out of here. Speaking of which, Charles, you don't have transport. Can I offer you a seat?"

_An invitation? _"Why?"

"The way this tournament turned out..." _He'll need people owing him favours._

"Thank you, but no." He wasn't about to tell him that the Dethkopter was less than an hour away. No need to have a demon waiting at the airfield. Brown and chocolaty or otherwise. Once it arrived, he could leave whenever he wanted, and there'd also be a supply of fresh personnel on board. The Klokateers had taken most of the casualties from the various invasions, almost a third of the garrison was now dead. Slightly less than the average Dethklok concert.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a corridor entirely free of demons, at least at first glimpse.

"Goodbye, gentlemen."

* * *

At the harbour, a pair of headless corpses lay in slowly congealing pools, one burned, the other a clean cut. Some BORED staff had attempted to fire off a salute, but an unlucky ricochet from the ceiling had put an end to the practice. On one armoured gauntlet, a red dot was flashing, and had been ever since the mechanical genius had made the transition from living being to cooling meat. In far away Robotropolis, missile silos flared into life...

* * *

_And that's that, folks. My conclusion, which the other writers can do anything or nothing. _

_Anyway, that's it from me. Regards to all my opponents, Kohaku Kawa, The Talking Absol, (and sort of Skipper1313),Lord Gambit 508, Khellan Rafe, and Avatarjk137, the judges Jjp55, Aelstla Mental, AngelLucifel, Moonshine's Guide, Kohaku Kawa, Khellan Rafe, Movie-Brat, and Avatar._

_Honourable mentions to Blood Lord Dark Kiva/Shattered Convoy for entering Robotnik into the tournament, and Khellan Rafe and Reaper's Shadow for not killing him when they had the chance(Robotnik, not BLDK) I'm pretty sure my reviewers are on the above lists already, but thanks to you too._

_Anyway, I enjoyed this tournament, and I'm happy with the progress I made. Good luck to the survivors. I'll be keeping an eye on things._

_...Wow, with a speech like this, you'd think I won. Refer to Chapter 3 of Avatar's Chiroscuro story for details on how Robotnik became a headless corpse. A link to his profile is on the reviews page._


End file.
